A Means to an End
by FamRoyalty
Summary: Master Jedi in exile, Ben Kenobi was dead. So was Obi-wan Kenobi. He was always watching and waiting, protecting the Chosen One's child. But what if he had the chance to go back and change what other's could not?
1. A Nightmare

**A/N: Hello, this story has already been posted on Archiveofourown. Because I can. But I have that you enjoy so far!**

 **Notes:** Does anyone know a good Beta?

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

A Nightmare

 _He was too cold and his body was in pain._

 _Nothing new, expect there was a ghost talking to him._

* * *

 _Tatooine 21 BBY, a year into the Jedi purge_

It was the sounds that was getting to him.

The screaming of his brothers and sisters. If he somehow survived for the next 30 years or died in the next 30 seconds those sounds would still haunt him. He could dismiss anything else, like the hot suns that is beating him down, or the thirst that is wrecking his system. He could still taste the phantom metallic faint of blood. The decaying rotten death still clung to his bones, it was common. It lingered like a fine perfume that would not leave.

But those sounds. The primeval screams of pain, of betrayal. The ones he heard everyday when he wakes up— they echoed off in an impressive display of acoustics that made it feel like they were surrounding him. _Constantly_. Screams that were filled with pain and suffering, desperation and terror, defiance and courage—the screams of the fallen Jedi. Like nothing else he had ever seen, done, or heard, this would haunt him for the rest of his existence.

It wasn't like the Clone war, nor when they lost someone. It was the ones that the last survivor would scream, mouth with blood screaming at the world for it unfairness. Those screams would haunt him— they did— they would push him over the edge and he would find himself in the ground screaming for it to stop.

Then eveything was quiet for a moment; where his ears still rang with the phantom echos of innocent children getting killed. Gradually it started to come back to him, the heaviness, the roughness of the unforgiving sand in his cheeks. No matter how many times he tries to sweep the sand, it always finds a way through the place.

He took a deep breath; pain wrecked his muscles, flexing his hand he could see again. The world shifted as he groaned. He breath deeply, pulling his legs from under him and pushing his body upright. And he immediately regretted his decision. He took a moment, panting with the effort the simple movement had cost him before cracking his eyes open.

His chest tightened and his eyes burned in a way that had nothing to do with his injuries as his brother's body filled his vision. Anakin. A choked sob pushed its way past his lips. That was never supposed to happen. Ash in his mouth, he could _feel_ the fire eating and licking at Anakin. The boy he and his Master found in the back-water planet of Tatooine. He remembers his padawan, his grandpadawan. He remembered how a small voice in the back of his head whispered that there was something wrong. But he didn't listen; he never listened. And now . . .

And now the galaxy was on a turmoil, Jedi killed and exiled, the darkness sweeping in and lost forever. All because of him. He had failed turning Anakin back into the light, he let his brother — _his friend, his padawan, his pride_ — burn and the dark replaced him with Darth Vader. His former shell of the once Hero Without Fear. Anakin never really truly liked that title.

His vision blurred again. An old phrases, it's orgins lost to time, said, " _Time heals all wounds."_ Even throughout the years, time had never be any mercy to him. The wounds were still fresh enough to hiss at. Strange, when had the moon gone out? The slabs underneath him were unforgiving —like most things in Tatooine— to his feet. Shivering he attempted to go back to his little hut, but his legs collapsed under him.

He was a _Jedi_. A Master Jedi with a seat in the High Counsel, the first of the Jedi to fight with a Sith in nearly one thousand years. Jedi did not long, or want. But was he even a Jedi now? He was a selfish being; he wanted his Master to tell him what to do, he wanted his padawan to come back, he wanted Master Yoda to tell him something cryptic in a frustrating broken basic. He simply _wanted everything back._

To the days before the war, where the temple was settled, and in peace. But he burned that bridge a long time ago. He muffled a broken sob, tears threathing to escape. Why was he crying so much? _Why? Why. . ._

 _"Dear padawan of mine, always taking the blame when it's out of your control_ ," a strong, familiar voice, _breathed, in through the nose_ , _out through the mouth_. He had to concentrate, because he couldn't —wouldn't— believe it. Forcing his gaze upwards, he focused in his breathing. The world tilted and spun unsteadily around him, threatening a return of the lunch he thankfully hadn't eaten —not that he had any— because in front of his was a glowing form of his deceased Master.

"M—Master? Is—Is that you?" He choked out a broken whisper, spoken like a prayer. His former Master, the man that he guarded as a father figure, he was forced to watch die. He watched as the figure clear and vidvily became almost solid.

" _My padawan, dry your tears. I am here and not a form of his imagination, or the worrisome lack of water in your system,"_ He could see the outlines of his Master's figure. Wisps of fog, it was there and his Master was here. He held out his hand, it went right through the arm, but there was the familiar warmth. His breath hitched and he couldn't breath because _his Master was here._

 _"Calm down, young one. I need you to breath with me, you need to listen to me right now_ ," He paused and sat back on his heels, taking a moment to catch his breath. Listen to him? He could do that, one of the things he could concentrate on.

"Master what?—" The ghost pressed his fingers into his forehead and suddenly he could breath again. The class in his throat, that were constricting his chest, now disappeared. He could see the desert that was an ocean without an end. He could see now.

" _Padawan, I need you to listen to me now. The Force gave you an opportunity you cannot miss. You can go back to change the history that had yet to pass_ ," History? His was filled with the perfume of death and how could he change his nightmares? His mistakes?

" _The Force will guide you, but padawan you must tell me, do you want to do this_?"

"W—What do you mean? Change what? I cannot change the past, it's — It's insanity, it had come to past and — and," But no matter what he told his Master, he was mostly telling himself this. Because this was some cruel joke that the Galaxy had on him for his mistakes. Because he wanted to ignored the tingle of hope that started to bloom in his chest.

"But dear padawan, you _can_. _But the Force will not force you to do this, if you don't wish to,_ " But then Obi-wan started to think. If this was truly some form of his imagination, then there was no true harm on this. But if he could —if he could— then the endless deaths, the betrayals, the _Empire_ , it didn't have to pass.

So there was no true harm done. So Obi-wan looked up to his Master, the moonlight and his ghost mixing into the two. And spoke the words that would change the course of the history and destiny.

"Yes," And the world spun, the sand and the moon started to come closer to his face. His Master smiled and spoke something he couldnt hear. And the world lit up with a bright light that was warm and comforting yet cold and soothing.

Then everything just . . . stopped.

* * *

Obi-wan cracked his eyes opened and immediately regretted his actions. The warm light burned his eyes and then there was a sudden coolness sweeping right through his body.

He's in the Temple.

Before the war, before the purge, before everything went wrong. There was a peace that settled in, like a blanket that held a surreal feeling. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, watching the fact slowly sinking in and looking around the garden, the sun painting everything in a warm gold-and-red hue.

"Yes, this is rather peaceful isn't it?" Twisting around, jerking to find his Master standing at his side. He blinked before he jumped him into a hug. His Master stuttered but returned the warm hug. And go mind was blank for a moment, because _his Master was here and he was hugging him and he was safe._

But the humor died down, as his Master placed his large hand into his shoulder— suddenly feeling like a padawan again— with a grave expression into his face.

"Padawan you must listen now. This place . . . Is like a stop before you enter back into the world of the living. It will be painful and it will be confusing. But I will guide, you must be strong now," And Obi-wan nodded. Because he chose this and he could go back to _change_ things.

"Remember padawan, _breath_." And Obi-wan was alone again. Turning and twisting confirm that he was alone. Again. The Jedi breathed in deeply, taking a moment to enjoy his surroundings for what they were: a temporary sanctuary, a calm before the inevitable storm. He couldn't deny the ache of wanting to come here for a long time.

He stretched his senses and everything felt right. Then there was a tingle, like a ants kn his arm, before he arrived to the Sanctuary. At first it seemed like nothing was going to happen, like maybe his Master was wrong for once, or maybe the Force was playing a cruel joke on him.

Then he felt a fire starting at his fingers, racing down through his limbs, rocking through him in tumultuous waves. The fire crashed and bounced within him, centering in the middle of his chest like the eye of a terrible hurricane. What felt like an eternity in time lasted only seconds before everything went black.

* * *

Jedi Master's and padawan's alike around the Galaxy collapsed when the Force _screamed_.

It always sang, playing songs that told stories of future events. The Dark side of the Force sang too, always whispering into people minds. But something happened. The Dark side sang to the Light, the Light always pushing and twisting away. But this time. It listen and sang back.

Then the steel walls, invisible and strong, settled. Cutting off the connection between the Jedi and the Force. Where Masters tried to touch the Force, it pushed back. Staggering and pushing, people were stuck in mediation, feeling the Force around them but couldn't touch it. Then as soon as it settled, the scream started.

Young, yet old. The whole weight of the Force driven behind it. Laced with the pain of thousands and every being were forced to listen to the scream that sounded of blood in their mouth. Yelling and waiting. Then as soon as it began, it had stopped.

Something was wrong.

Something was about to happen, fundamental changing the scales of the Force itself. The Force, in it's mysterious ways, began to sign again. This time it changed tunes ( _HeroFriendWarriorJediLightHopeChosenOne_ ) anticipation and intent, tight and expectant. Something was going to happen, that was happening, and it's outcome was muddled and unclear. Causing Fear and despair.

The shockwave of anticipation didn't disappear nor did it weaken.

The Force pin-pointed to one spot in the vast galaxy of ink darkness. Where the one spot the anticipation spiralled down into expectant waiting, pressing down, hovering over a collecting above the Jedi that would change everything. And then the Force was silent.

The anticipation hummed and burned.

* * *

The shearing pain that drove itself through his head into his chest before exploding out in a strangled scream.

He attempted to catch his breath, forcing what little air his could past the pressure building against his throat. Spots teased his vision, growing in size when he was abruptly released and found himself nose-down on the ground once more. But this time the ground did not meet his face. There were whispers, words, and shouts all dancing at the edge of his hearing, just barely out of reach. As the Force suddenly went quiet.

And Obi-wan cried out.


	2. Toll for the Brave

**A/N:** Hello again, , I hope that you're doing alright. Another chapter of angst with a sprinkle of fluff. I hope that you enjoy this so far. I don't update as much as I would like, but here's the warning I should give more often; I will probably won't finish this or the updates will be like slow. Just saying.

 **Disclaimers** : I, unfortunately don't own Star Wars nor it's characters.

* * *

 **Toll For The Brave**

 _Hunger and Pain are worth the troubles_

 _For the child is dead as the Future_

 _He can't remember and he is still good_

 _And then he screams_

* * *

And Obi-wan woke up. Pain erupting and consuming, like an never ending volcano, he can hear voices, but too far away like in the end of a tunnel. Gradually he can pick up things, explosions, metals being dropped and explosions far away. This isn't right, he was in Tatooine, home to many criminals and troops. But there wasn't any war going on in Tatooine- _Luke_!

The son of his brother, not of age one, that was tucked away. Danger signs were ringing, and he couldn't breathe. The fire was pressing in on him, burning away any air he managed to suck in. Distantly he could feel a touch against the back of his neck, hear the voices, but it washed over him, lost it's meaning. Then a roaring sound that had filled his ears. The fire increased, pulling him under and then he was almost grateful for the dark oblivion as it rushed up to greet him.

But then a harsh breath forced open his eyes, and then there was the white light. Obi-wan attempted to push his way through the cotton that someone had stuffed his head with. He struggled to remember why everything felt so strange. If he was floating in a stranger's home. Then sand, because of course it was sand, he was in Tatooine? Or was in the Temple, being one with the Force? But something felt off; he was missing something and someone is screaming at him to remember.

Murky and disjointed at best, floating nonsensically. He remembered The temple, and his dead Master, and the Grand plan to . . . To go some where? But that didn't seem right.

He was going to train Luke, to be a Jedi like his father before him, correct? But that didn't seem correct either. He remembers there was a place he needs to go, but he doesn't quite remember _what_.

Bracing himself against his mind, Obi-wan braced to center on a single memory; if he could just grasp onto one, maybe he could build from there. _There_. It was important: he was being send somewhere, somewhere so he could fix things. Make things better. Creeping from his thoughts he looked up, there is a sky. Blue in infinity, and soft clouds. Tatooine is unforgiving, a vast ocean of sand, so why is it so cool?

There was still shouting, and then there was hands all over him, pulling him down into the earth. There was a person in front of him, in white and orange. A clone. There was still something warm in his sides. But that doesn't matter because he is with a clone.

He was going to be killed. He was finally going to be put down for his faults to the galaxy, but as soon as he accepted his fate, he remember Padme's screams and pleas. Luke's and Leia's first breaths and wailings. _No_!

Obi-wan snapped back into focus, and he reached through Force. And then his Master's voice was heard. " _Calm yourself padawan. Remember why you are here,"_ His Master warned him, but he wasn't prepared. Stretching his senses, he could feel that the battle died. Obi-wan couldn't help but look around, asset his surroundings. The stormtroopers— or were they clones now?— in orange and blue were surrounding him. Their backs turned and Obi-wan didn't know why they would do such a foolish mistake, he could kill them. But what has happened?

"S-... pleas.. . re.. Gene... Skywalker..." There was a voice that was still talking to him, and Obi-wan turned to the sound. He hadn't noticed how quiet everything sounded when it was so muffled, soothed by a buzz in his ears. But the word struck, if he was being shocked back, for the name he heard.

Skywalker? Had the stormtroopers found Luke? Leia? His confusion he couldn't see that the clone— stormtrooper?— removed his helmet and _the face_. He flinched back, because good lord, he looked like every other clone. ( _Like Every other clone that he fought alongside with, and every other clone that betrayed and killed the Jedi_ ) He swallowed stiffly, his breaths coming short and painful.

There was still chatter, and Obi-wan could finally tell that his right side of his body and arm are twitching. Strange, he couldn't recall being injured. _Why_ were the stormtroopers still trying to get him to talk? And Obi-wan remembered.

The temple, why he was here. To fix things, to save his brother, the Jedi and hopefully fix the Galaxy. Everything about it felt so wrong. But then he could see the others, in the distance there laid to waste droids he never thought he see again, were soldiers in blue and some of orange. But there was someone leading them to his direction.

A fury of light and of blue eyes. But that was not possible, because Anakin was killed. Because Obi-wan burned his brother and he knew that his padawan is dead and something much darker took his place. But there he was walking- or running?- to his direction. But the memories resurfaced — _seeing Anakin cut down the younglings, Anakin running towards him, a deathly blade and hate in those yellow eyes_ — Obi-wan jumped back. Because he couldn't let the monster take Luke. Not on his watch, he wouldn't let this one down. Not again.

But then the figure stopped, slowed his run and came to a stop a few feet away from him. His hand hovered over his lightsaber, because the stormtroopers were walking away from him, forming a loose circle. Because he had his lightsaber inated. How strange, he doesn't remember doing that. The figure started to talk away, slowly and with a tingle of worry and of caution. But he couldn't hear much, but he could see the lips moving of the imposter.

" _Remember why you're here padawan, clear your mind,"_

He knew that voice, he trusted that voice. He knew that if he listened to that voice he could be okay again, so he listened and he could hear again. There was a rumble in the distance, he could feel the trembling in his sides and he could hear the man- the imposter that was his padawan. But he search his feeling and he could see the light. Only the light, the other Jedi. Still there, still whole, and still _alive_. But the man in question was still talking, calling his name.

"A-Anakin?" Obi-wan said, slowly drawing out the Jedi's name in a question.

Anakin slowed his strides and stopped at front of his Master. The master who always kept the calm face, even when in danger . He looked so lost and his eyes looked dead when he first gazed into -wan's eyes snapped into focus. "Anakin?" he said like the whisper of a prayer.

Anakin nodded slowly again. "Yes, it's me. Anakin, remember?" Obi-wan watched him for a moment, unfocused and confused before nodding. He wasn't sure which one of them the nod was for. Obi-wan's eyes slid off him to take in their environment, to the clones who were watching warily of his actions. Slowly Obi-wan let his lightsaber fall. That seemed to broken the spell as his Master dropped to his knees, springing him and the clone into actions. He barely made it before he collapsed under.

"Master? Master!" Obi-wan looked at Anakin, as if he hasn't seen the man in years. So very slowly, he raised his arm his hand remained tangled in with his sleeve. He looked so confused, his gazed seemed to be so dead, until Anakin snapped his fingers in front of him. Obi-wan turned his confused gaze away from the troops to him. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, and moving everywhere at once as if watching something only he could see, but they were open.

"A'nak'n?" His voice sounded like broken glass. Obi-wan reached up, his fingers tangling themselves loosely into his sleeve. Anakin flinched back, seeing this . . . His Master so weak and bloody, he couldn't — "You're not . . . " He took a shallow breath. "You're . . . okay?"

Obi-wan looked at him with an almost desperate, hopeful, and, if Anakin didn't know any better, he would say scared countenance. Obi-wan didn't do scared. At least not where anyone could see. That frighten him more, because his Master looked too scared, more scared when he faced off any enemies, or when they were close to loosing someone.

And Obi-wan didn't respond to his calls, instead looked at him lighthearted expressing before closing his eyes. "Master? Master!" Obi-wan didn't respond.

* * *

Obi-wan is on the ground, watching his padawan for the first time. Did he really had that shade of hair? Or as it the dirt and grime in the air? But Obi-wan didn't care. Because the Jedi were still alive, his padawan was still alive and whole. And that was enough for him. There was his padawan calling him, sounding like he was behind a wall. But there was another voice. One calling him from the dark.

"I _t's okay. You did good my padawan. Now rest,"_ And Obi-wan closed his eyes, because he knew that everything, for his moment, was alright and safe.

* * *

"We're losing him!" The medic in his right cried, as they strapped the body into the bed. Spamming and shaking the pale face of Obi-wan, Anakin wished he could turn away, and not see the sight of his Master right side all ripped apart.

"Bring me that damn oxygen!" Then he started to cough blood. Medics shouting and Anakin with his troops watched from the other side of the room, separated by a mere window.

Then the line went flat.

The stale stiffness in the room seemed for forever but he could only watch as they ran to his Master side, desperately hoping to save him. He didn't realized that he was being held back by his troops, who they too were struggling.

But then the line jumped, and jumped again. Rhythmically with the heartbeats of his Master. Alive. His Master was still alive. He let the air flow through again, that he didn't realized that he had been holding his own breath.

Anakin paced around the room, where there laid his Master. Those events happened mere hours ago, and were in hyperspace now. The chair he sat on was notably uncomfortable; the stiff back and the medical equipment around him had settled. There was a panic when they boarded the ship, where the medics saw the bloody and unconscious Obi-Wan in his arms.

At least this time he's breathing on his own—mostly. There was no respirator forcing air into his lungs like before, but there was a nasal cannula to supply oxygen, along with a blood pressure cuff, and a pulse oximeter. The basic to keeping a person alive.

For the last few hours Obi-wan's stats had jumped all over the place. They would be within normal ranges for a few minutes to an hour, only to drop dangerously low or spike dangerously high before leveling out once more. Standing up, Anakin stretched, trying to work out some of the kinks and soreness in his muscles; pacing the room, he soon found himself looking out a small window on the far side. The blue strips of the stars always calmed him. Reassuring himself that they were alright.

The door opened and there stood Cody and Rex, loyal without fault. Anakin smiled, relived that there was someone that he could talk to. They both saluted, but the clear spike in the Force and in their eyes, showed the worrisome for their general.

"Sir, we should be leaving hyperspace in a half an hour." Anakin saw through their ploy, as they were only there to see the process of their general. As their concern leaked through the Force, then Cody stepped up.

"How the general, sir?" Anakin sighed, he himself didn't know really what happened not how his Master really was doing. But the look on their faces showed the true concern.

"I really don't know, the medics needs to keep an eye on him," And Anakin, too, needed to keep an eye on his old Master. Seeing the man jump away and ready to fight his own men, _him_ , with such fear in his eyes. Only leaving Anakin confused, hurt and he knew that his own men took it hard. Their own general defending himself from his own men.

But before neither of them could comment, the beeping of the heart rate jumped and screamed. The curve of Obi-wan looked almost un-natural as his fingers curled, his face twisted in pain. The alarms flared and the room began to shake, it took a second before he understood—his master. Quickly regaining his stance, turned to the two soldiers.

"Get the medics immediately!"

Before Rex or Cody could do anything the walls cracked and the room shook. Lights flickered and Anakin could only stare in horror as his Master's went slack and the flickering and shaking stopped. Rex and Cody froze as well. Clones and medics droids pushed through the rumble, froze at the sight of the half-broken room, if an explosion went off. And in this meteorological situation, that bomb was Obi-wan.

"What the kriff just happened?"

* * *

Dead Anakin, dead Qui Gon, dead younglins, dead padawan, dead clones. Who cares?

 _He_ cared. The sickness in his stomach might have been sympathetic to the fatal gut wound, or might have been disgust at what he had just done. He had killed; murdered. He wanted to run away, as he saw the bodies of the younglings in the ground, unmoving. The blood —crimson in the bright sunshine— burned its memory into his mind as he turned and gagged, his stomach trying to empty at the sight.

 _You did that._

Clumsily, hands slippery like they were slicked with blood, he hauled his slight and he didn't see the faces of concern of the clones. He never would have managed it if he'd had to think about it again. Then there were hands dragging him upwards— _In the heat of a Tatooine noon, the hot metallic sting of blood was coarse and nauseating._ He was pulled into the hard surface and he couldn't fight the memories. Anakin came to focus.

I'm sorry. I couldn't save you. I'm so so sorry.

There were so many things that he wanted to say. But the memories sprung up and then he was in a different era, and where he was standing over a burning body with hateful yellow eyes. And the fire kept burning, burning…

 _"Master? Master! Dammit get me the medic, now!"_

He could the hear their pleading despair, silently begging him to wake up and not go to the darkness. But he was a weak fool, since the fearful night, a weak man that couldn't fight anymore. He closed his eyes, even though the blurry image in front of him screamed not to.

* * *

Pain spiked through Obi-wan's head as he shifted elevation; he scrunched his eyes against the scenes flashing across his vision. It was like watching the last few years of his life playing out in no particular order at high speed. It made him feel like he was going to lose the lunch he remembered eating both forever ago and what seemed like only a few hours ago. It was beyond disorienting. He squeezed his eyes shut and cradled his head as the movement caused the world to tilt viciously on its axis.

As he was opening his mouth to retort, but stopped short as an migrant threaten to explode. Obi-wan pushed against the bed, shoving a flash of pain and dizziness to the side, looking around. He had the overwhelming feeling as he gazed at Anakin. Light, real, and still very much alive. Behind him were the two clones he oncw fully trusted —before the betrayal, and order 66 and—

"Obi-wan? Master?" Anakin snapped his fingers in front of his face, as he jerked back in surprise. "Master, talk to me. What's wrong?" Apparently he had been trying to get his attention for the last several minutes. Ah, he should probably say something now.

"Anakin? What happened? Where—?" _What happened to Vader? Where is Luke? What are they doing here?_ The white room he was in, was small, confining and he didn't undertand what the kriff was going on. The adhere Jedi Order never quite taught their younglings this kind of situations. Anakin shook his head and held him steady.

"Master I know you're confused and that you don't understand what's happening but I need you to trust me, okay?" Obi-wan nodded, as Anakin pushed him back gently into the bed. He was so _tired_. Tired of running, tired of the nightmares, tired of _eveything_. Yet he listened to the man in front of him, because like the voice, he was comforting. And everything he listened to hold him to trust. Even after everything that had happened to him, told him to trust.

So he did.


	3. Here and There

**_Notes:_** _Long time no see, sorry for not updating as much. In a lighter note, I would like to give a very special thanks Evermoor, for being an amazing beta! Please check them out, you won't be disappointed!_

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I don't own star wars or its characters._

* * *

 ** _Here to There_**

 _Obligation to survive_

 _On a quest, running to the beginning_

 _Came to be, how it begun_

 _All alone now_

* * *

The Jedi temple held bittersweet memories, from times that were not truly his. He remembered as a youngling how _big_ everything looked. The ceiling high above, and the pillars that held it, stretching out into the Heavens. Strange, how everything looked so vivid... like he was in a dream walking with the other younglings. Young and innocently arrogant. He watched from a distance as some changed others, but in a playful way. Obi-Wan was always watching from a distance, never truly in the moment.

There, in the corner. A child, smaller than the rest, was on his knees. Watching like Obi-Wan, in a familiar way. He looked so... lonely. Afraid of rejection. And the small child turned towards him and their eyes met.

And Obi-Wan woke up.

* * *

Obi-Wan had associated with the Healers more than enough to recognize the soft white ceiling. Coming from missions, even as a padawan, he spends nights there as the Healers chased him for it. So the peace settled into his bones; he could be floating, for all he knew, because of right now this was familiar territory. Obi-Wan knew this time around that he wouldn't panic like he did before with Anakin. ( _He wasn't sure if he wouldn't freak out every time he saw him.)_

But right now he could feel the lightness and he could feel the light that surrounded the temple. Like a long-forgotten friend. It was almost comical, in a twisted sort of way, how everything turned out—technically he dealt with too many Sith, really—were almost average in comparison to what they would deal with in the future.

Because in the future, they mostly dealt with pirates and ghost stories, a decent amount of Sith, and the droids. A humorless chuckle almost rolled off his lips. Sith—there was a time when the thought of dealing with Sith actually scared him. Of course, they still did, in some way. But dealing with their plans, and their ways taught him to deal with it. So he was somewhat prepared when the Jedi came into the room. Like one hundred percent sure... Or maybe like twenty percent. He wasn't so sure now.

But it was too late to back out now for Master Che, Healer and the one that mostly chased him around the Temple. She was still like he remembered her — _only less blood, more light, still alive—_ but it seemed that she sensed his inner turmoil. It seemed nothing could possible escape the highly accomplished Healer.

"Ah, Obi-Wan! Welcome back to the land of the living. How are you feeling?"

Obi-Wan swallowed the fear and the anxiety, because there stood the Healer who pretty much chased him most of the time. The Jedi who was killed without a second thought by the Clones, brothers-in-arms. He wasn't—

"Obi-Wan!"

Ah, it seemed at she had been trying, and failing, to get his attention. Which she immediately pounced on.

"I apologize, I'm just... very tired, and hungry," he said.

Master Che made a disapproving noise at the back of her throat before she started to pounced on him with questions. _Are you okay? Where does it hurt? On a scale from one to ten? Do you know your name? Who I am?_ — and he answered them all passably, if somewhat groggily.

He knew most of them, that's of course until she told the question of, "What's the date?"

Ah, _kriff_.

He knew the question would come up eventually,bbut he couldn't scrap together an answer that would get him out of this one. Because he didn't know. Master Che stopped tapping in the data tablet and raised an eyebrow. Yes, this is not a good situation. He swallowed, but he knew it was too late for him. He answered every question without hesitation, proving that he was alright. But this was bad.

"It's..." What was the year? Well, it could be—

"Right. You're not getting out of here any time soon, Kenobi. I'll bring the medicine for the swelling in your brain. And your brusies. Now don't leave and rest." Before he could utter a single protest Master Che was out of the door, looking for her next patient. Or victim.

Obi-Wan lay back into the bed. Kriff. He needed to get out of here. He sneaked a peek around the ward, feeling others walking past, not taking a look in. Which was always good, of course. Taking a deep breath, he sucked on his lips as he rose and walked out of the ward. He was glad of the victim that Master Che had on her hands.

Walking in the shadows, he almost fell as he saw Masters, padawans, and younglings walking around. No death, no burned bodies. Just the peace of the stones.

" _Calm yourself, padawan. Take a breath. They are safe and alive."_

He gave a harsh breath when he heard his Master's voice around in his head. He pushed himself to the pillar for support. He was right, he needed to see reason. The surreal feeling, like he was walking in a dream. He supposed it would be the case.

"Master, what do I do?" But before he could get a response, he heard steps behind him. There, walking directly to him, with fury and commitment, was Anakin Skywalker.

* * *

Anakin swore silently as he stalked out of the Council. They seemed to placed the blame on Obi-Wan for his injuries. Like if he chose that. But they were old fools who—

"Ah, Master Skywalker?" A young girl with a padawan's braid appeared at Anakin's elbow.

"Um, yes?"

The padawan's Force signature flared a bit brighter as she smiled in response.

"Master Che would like to speak to you at the Healer's about Master Kenobi, sir."

At this, his confidence faltered. His Master. What had happened? Did something happen? But if she could see the thoughts the young padawan immediately reassured him.

"Oh, you see it's just that Master Kenobi is out of his resting bed and Master Che needs your help finding him."

Anakin froze. His Master, the same Obi-Wan who lectured too much... ran away from the Healers? He dismissed the padawan and headed for the Healer's Wing. And as expected his Master was gone.

But it took only a few seconds for Anakin to locate his old Master, slogging down the pillar, away from sight that made it difficult to see and his lightsaber ready. Relief flooded through him at the visual confirmation that his master wasn't hurt or worse, that he was alive and well. But then anger flared as his eyes scanned the surrounding area for anyone as he hurriedly made his way over to Obi-Wan. The moment he was within arm's reach, Anakin pulled Obi-wan forward, before Obi-Wan took a step back, gripping the his side.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" The words rushed out of him as his eyes scrutinized Obi-Wan for any visible or hidden injuries. He looked tired and a bit wobbly, but relatively unscathed.

Obi-wan shook his head. "No, A-Anakin, I'm fine. I mean other than..." He gestured to his bruised side. Anakin immediately let go, guilty that he forgot his own injuries.

"Oh. Sorry. Wait, aren't you supposed to be with the Healers?" Sarcasm wasn't his best suit, that was all Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, something the studiously polite Jedi rarely did. What Anakin never could understand was Obi-Wan's need to run away from the Healers.

"Anakin, have you talked to the Council?"

Anakin scoffed and, of course Obi-Wan would ask this sooner than later, but had he even seen himself? Though the look of that Obi-Wan gave him made him take a mental step back. He exhaled through his nose, before answering.

"Yes, Master, but please, don't worry about it. They say they'll speak to you later," he replied, hoping to get his Master off the matter. To his surprise, his Master simply nodded instead of asking more. That was somewhat promising. "Are you sure, you're okay? I can get something for you?"

Anakin saw how... conflicted his Master was. That was something that his Master didn't do. He followed the Code without a fault and never showed too much emotion. But this? Something must have happened, something beyond even what he knew. Because his Master had a turmoil of emotions, dangerous, inside him.

"No, A-Anakin I will be fine. Just, I just need rest, to mediate," And Obi-wan walked away, leaving behind a very confused and hurt Anakin.

* * *

After Order 66 and the events that followed right after, a grumpy Anakin would be a easy task. Those years... Obi-Wan absently rubbed his good arm. They had pushed all of them to the edge, and some of them over.

He shook his head, knocking the thoughts loose. This is his second chance; he didn't want to dwell on the bad things in his past, or the future. Because right now he was here, not there. He dug a knuckle against his eye. Their life was hard. It was bloody, it was messy, and it was thankless, but it wasn't terrible. There were moments of happiness. Memories to be cherished, to hold onto tightly when everything else went to hell.

He could recall one such memory: Rex and Cody were celebrating a mission, and Anakin and Obi-Wan both decided to join in. He remembered the bickering of both Anakin and Cody. The silent amusement of Rex. And the other clones. Who somehow brought beverages on board and he remembered knowing lying about it.

It left nothing but ash in his mouth.

Obi-Wan thought he had been prepared; he had talked briefly with his Master on his way before Anakin found him. It had caused a surge of emotions, but they had been shoved brutally to the side in favor of more pressing issues. Because he couldn't realise those emotions now, not in the presence of his old padawan.

Now that he was standing there in front of the door the held the barrier between them and the perished Jedi... Now that he could smell the familiar scent of the temple, the younglings alive and running, and the air that was clean of blood and burned flesh... Now that he could reach out and feel the ruff but warm stones and the solid presence beneath the it... It was overwhelming, like a punch to the gut.

But he payed no attention to the door. Because he couldn't go in there. Not now.

Instead he ran to his quarters. Everything was in place, if it wasn't burned or raided. He felt like a coward, running away from his fellow Masters. But seeing the room again, a thing he didn't paid attention nor remembered he couldn't help but give a small cry to it. Because after living in Tatooine, sand always everywhere, cold in the middle of the night and the tragedy of everything. But now standing here instead of there, seeing a bed, his, brought emotions that he didn't fully understand.

Because he was here. Not there. Here with the Jedi, still living, and Anakin hasn't fallen, and he didn't have to be in the run, living under the coat of fear. And when Obi-Wan sat down in the mattress sobs broke free. His hand covering the wet sobs that wreck chaos in his body. Finally, sleep allayed his wary bones, soothing and putting to rest. He watched and let the darkness claim him.

* * *

Outside of the comfort and stillness of the room, the Force sang with righteousness.


	4. In and out

**_Notes:_** _Hello, thanks for being patient and tolerating me with my slow updates. Again big shout out to Evernoor for being my beta!_

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own Star Wars or their characters._

 ** _Spoilers:_** _If you haven't seen Star Wars the Clone Wars, then run. If you haven't heard if Star wars then run. And just run._

* * *

 ** _Chapter 4_**

 ** _In and Out_**

 _Running, and Falling_

 _Drowing, in sorrow_

 _Suffering and running_

 _You can't run forever, you know?_

* * *

CC-2224, nicknamed Cody, was assigned to High Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi in the beginning of the war. Back then, he was just another clone, but through time and blood Cody forged himself a life of comrade and brotherhood with the Jedi. He knew how they were with their emotions, how their body language screamed to stay away, even in between padawans and Masters. So every clone learned to give Jedi their space.

And indeed he learned. Because he became the leader of the 7th Sky Corps, a duty he served well, though he typically took personal command of the 212th; Cody was a loyal and competent soldier who always followed his orders. He was a no-nonsense commander who was very skilled in tactics. Well, he told himself that most days to keep his head in the game, but he knew something was off the moment they entered the atmosphere.

Their Generals, the Jedi, were always a good thing to have around. Their Force abilities made the difference between life or death in some situations. So from the tales of other clones and his own experiences, they had their own motto regarding the Jedi: _"Just roll with it."_

Because somehow, something would happen and their Jedi generals would do something crazy and they just had to roll with it. Because they had no other option, and they trusted their Jedi Generals with the highest regard. So he just "rolled with it" when his General jumped away, with so much fear on his eyes. Away from his own troops, his own men, to bleed to death, rather than be near them.

So, yes, he rolled with it, when his Jedi General started to twitch and seeing and fearing his own troops. He was loyal to the Republic, but there was always something special about the connection between Jedi and their troops. Because they depended on each other during battle and that trust was special.

So yes, he rolled with it when the heartbeat of the General stopped. He rolled with it when he was holding back General Skywalker from busting in the medical room. He rolled with it when his General looked so lost, confused, and everything that the General never looked like.

So he rolled with it.

* * *

Obi-Wan relaxed into the his seat, letting the familiar Force wash over him and sooth away any lingering stress. It was clean, untouched, and it didn't hold the echoes of the screams of dying Jedi. It didn't matter where he was or what time he was in—he would always find comfort in the Force.

Obi-Wan cast a glance out the window; the sun had disappeared behind the horizon not too long ago, leaving the entire world beyond the temple blanketed in darkness. The lights from the streets and people were the only thing keeping the darkness at bay. Gathering his thoughts, Obi-Wan finally came to a decision: neither the Council or nor anyone else could where and when he came from.

He had debated himself for hours already. The fewer people he had to explain his actions to, the better. Obi-Wan still wasn't sure what he would tell Anakin, but there was no way he would allow him to follow the same path he had before, even if Palpatine had been working at it since Anakin was nine. But Obi-Wan did have to record his story, or tell someone of it. Because if he died then no one would know and everything would perish.

He couldn't let it happen.

So he took a breath, releasing his negative emotions to the Force. It was quiet for the moment; even the normal sounds of nature seemed reluctant to break the unnatural hush. Obi-Wan shifted his attention out the window, showing the lights across the planet.

The lights seemed to dim somewhat, as if reflecting his pensive mood, and he allowed himself to relax into the light of the Force. He needed to tell someone, someone in the order, in the Council. But who? Maybe Mace: he knew combat, he knew the ever-present temptation of the Dark Side and always came back stronger and triumphed. But Obi-Wan also knew Mace held some resentment towards Anakin.

He would not let them blame Anakin for something he hadn't done, not in this time.

So, that left the difficult decision of who to choose. Maybe Master Plo? Or Yoda? Thoughts were making his head spin. He wanted to make sure this opportunity wasn't to be wasted, that Anakin wouldn't fall, that they survived this war. Because last time there was too many deaths, too much blood, far too much—

 _Breathe, in and out. In and out_.

His head was stuffed with white noise, and he could feel his clothes slick with sweat. His limbs trembled as his lungs tried to overcome a sudden shortness of breath. A choking sensation, like those described by the people aboard the Executor. The phantom chest pain, and the nausea, and dizziness, he feared he was losing his mind. He could feel the taunting sensation, in the back of his mind, that feeling that danger was nearby.

 _In and out._

Like his Master told him. Except his Master was dead. Like everyone else. Dead like—

" _Breathe, padawan. In and out. Don't overthink it." Sixteen year-old Obi-Wan startled as his Master puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder—_

Obi-Wan shuddered as he stumble and fell into the 'fresher. He couldn't stop the bile that burned through his throat and nose. He wanted to stop shaking, and feeling so hot and cold. Everything was too confusing for him to even notice the beeping on his stand. Even after a few minutes- or hours?- he finally cleaned himself off the floor.

He didn't know what to do. Did he kill Palpatine? Reveal that he's the Sith Lord, without evidence? How would he show that Palpatine had played both sides even from the beginning? Too many questions and too many gaps. He lay on the floor, too tired and confused to get into the bed a few inches away.

Someone else would know what to do. He couldn't do this. He wasn't particularly keen on dying this time—not even really sure how he could navigate through this madness—but he knew the chance to change events was too important, even if it required him to give up his own life once more. If they could stop the war, the Sith from gaining a foothold on the galaxy once more, then Obi-Wan could end up saving millions of people. Really, there was no decision. But he couldn't make that decision dictated by fear.

He didn't remember closing his eyes, or the darkness that soon followed. He remembered the nightmares afterwards.

* * *

 _There's blood, and the screaming is back again._

 _"How come I'm the one getting caught all the time?"_

 _The younglings— oh gods, the younglings are screaming and they're—_

 _" You're a Jedi? Nice to meet you!"_

 _They're were so young, and the clones— their brothers, their comrades._

 _Then, there was Anakin, and he was—_

 _"Oh, c'mon, Obi-Wan, Snips and I could've handled it!"_

 _And the Empire was taking their place, and Padme—_

 _"I love you."_

 _And Anakin had Sith eyes, fire behind them, and their was blood on both of their hands—_

 _" **I hate you!** "_

 _Then there was a young boy, bright eye and sounding so young—_

 _"He claims to be the property of an Obi-Wan Kenobi. Is he a relative of yours?"_

 _Luke Skywalker. Hope and future for the Galaxy, for the Jedi._

 _"I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like my father."_

 _Oh, he was so young, too young and naive. Too much like his father._

 _"We meet again, at last. The circle is now complete."_

 _Darth Vader and there was so many dead bodies._

 _"Why didn't you tell me that Darth Vader was my father?"_

 _He was so sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Forgive me—_

And Obi-wan woke up screaming.

* * *

He was weak, so weak. He had lost everything; there was nothing. Only heat and blood, pain and grief. Perhaps losing his life was just closure. Obi-Wan, the old hermit of the desert, the Wizard of the Jundland Wastes, didn't know things such as closure.

The pain recoiled and he could breath again. His throat burned at the acid taste of vomit. A reminder of failure. Because Obi-Wan didn't hold any illusions of himself, he knew that he needed help— both physically and mentally— and the heavy load of guilt wasn't to be carried alone. Because no one was really innocent: the clones, the Jedi, the civilians. No one was safe. Yet they held the umbrella of illusions and half-told lies, in hopes that everything would be better again.

In his youth, Obi-Wan too held that umbrella upwards, but life cruelly snatched it away with his Master's death. He learned the lesson of ignorance. How blissfully sweet it could be and how brutal everything came when it is gone. Like with the Sith. Always hiding, and always planning and plotting. Like himself now, really. He wonders what came to Luke after—

" _Master_? Are you there?" The knocking finally registered into his ears. The sun was warm in his face, odd that he doesn't remember—

"Master? We'll be late!" Anakin. Anakin was at the door, and they would be late?

"I-I'm getting ready, wait a second!" Obi-Wan yelled, or tried to, over the closed door. He pulled himself off the floor and opened the door to the refresher. The odd face of Obi-Wan Kenobi in the mirror showed how pale and red his eyes were. Hastily, he splashed water into his face and pulled his vomit and sweat-soaked robes away, sick with smell. The new robes, fresh and clean, were tucked neatly in the small closet. And now he stood in front of the door that was the only physical divider of the world and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He could sense the growing impatience and uneasiness of his old padawan beyond the door. He has to show some mercy. Before Anakin could knock again, Obi-Wan opened the door to reveal himself.

"Wow, you look terrible," Because of course that's what Anakin would say at the first opportunity that he saw him. Obi-Wan gave him a glare without the heat behind it. But it was enough to shut him up. Obi-Wan thought that he had made for quite quite sight, he admitted to himself. Considering how much of a mess he is right now.

"Yes, I am well aware of that, Anakin. But if we don't leave now, we'll be late."

Anakin gave him the strange look that he knew that Obi-Wan hated. But he couldn't bring himself to care as they walked forwards. Anakin projected his emotions and thoughts so loud into the Force. Obi-Wan wondered how he was going to survive this. He shielded himself from the hurricane of emotions that Anakin practically screamed to the universe. Could the younglings can hear them?

"Master?" The uncertainty of his former padawan's voice brought him out of his musing, and Obi-Wan finally noticed they almost passed the door to the Council. Stupid, stupid-

"Sorry, I'm just very tired right now." He struggled to put the wild emotions begin the walls that kept him safe for so long from Vader and the Emperor, a lifetime ago. Like Luke, and Leia, and the smuggler who too changed everything, and-

 _In and out. Breate. Just... breathe._

Pushing aside the thoughts and emotions, wiping away any trace of the tragedy that followed him, Obi-Wan opened the doors and entered the Council chamber, Anakin following his steps. Not all chairs were filled; blue-tinted holos flickering in and out from the distance that they were. He struggled to clear his mind, because behind his walls a voice screamed out, _You're alive! You're alive!_

"Master Kenobi, are you well enough to give your report?" Mace Windu inquired with his characteristic blunt kindness. Obi-Wan never saw the body of course, but heard from Yoda. Killed from electricity and the Fall. He was one of the few he knew he could tell, but then he was dead, and _everything was burning—_

"Of course." Lying through his teeth was something that became a second nature, trying to survive in a bloodthirsty Tatooine taught him that. But Master Yoda, sitting the chair, only hummed. If he knew that he was lying, it shamed him a bit.

"Report then, Master Kenobi."

And Obi-Wan launched himself to explain all the details he could remember of the mission. To deliver support on a back-water planet when they were ambushed. Simply then, the mission went downhill. They managed to escape whole, until the attack bomb that hit Obi-Wan. Since then he couldn't piece together what he remembered.

But when Obi-wan saw a shift in Mace's eye he knew he was in trouble. _Please don't ask, please don't ask, please—_

"Master Kenobi, Skywalker reported something interesting while you were in Med Bay." The others too were shifting their stance, and Anakin seemed empathetic through their bond. "That after you were hit, you were convinced that your own troops were a threat and later on a medically-induced coma, your control over the Force seemed to... loosen."

If he meant that Obi-Wan destroyed the equipment and the droids, then Mace was being extremely nice today.

"Then you ran away from the Healing Ward-"

Well, calling escaping "running away" then sure he did. No one knew what Master Che could do to him when he was sleeping. He saw the humor in the eyes of the Council, and dammit he heard that.

"Yes, I was to apologise but sadly didn't have the time to do so. And for the matter of the clones, I was... unaware of my actions and believed myself to be in danger." Even though his word about the clones were true (from a certain point of view), Obi-Wan felt Anakin's frown even under the eyes of the Council. But the expression apparently went unnoticed by the rest.

"Very well then, Master Kenobi. And next time try not to run away from the Healers."

Obi-Wan thought this was too easy. As they dismissed him, Yoda stood up.

"Rest, you will. Talk later we shall."

Obi-Wan bowed, and Anakin and he stepped out as one. It was a lifetime ago when he would be somewhat curious to why they wouldn't call him out on the details. But this Obi-Wan, Ben the Hermit, would turn around and run away as fast as possible. But this was neither Ben, or Obi-Wan. This was a new breed of both. He wasn't running, he wasn't hiding, but he wasn't confronting the issue head-on either.

Releasing a shaky breath, Anakin like the bright sun that he was, stopped in front of him with a grim face. "Master? Please, I'm been calling you for like hours. Are you okay?"

He blinked, because was Anakin this... concerned when he was younger? If so, where did that man went to when Darth Vader rose? No clear answer, Obi-Wan would not let it happen. Not again.

"No, I'm not, Anakin, but I will be. I just need some time. But I'll be alright soon." Admitting it aloud came more easy to his tongue than he thought, but Anakin's expression of pure disbelief and shock made him laugh a little. When was the last time he laughed since coming here?

"Are you sure? I mean, I could like walk you back or something."

Obi-Wan smiled fondly, because by the Force, where did this man come from?

"I'm fine for now. I'll be in my room." He knew that he should stay, talk to his padawan, try to make him understand. But the turmoil that he had kept under control for the Council was getting more restless and dangerous. There was time, he hoped. But when he arrived back to his quarters, he broke down crying again.

He did that so much these days, mourning and crying for what they have yet to lose. But he was here, and now. There was no Luke, no Leia, no Darth Vader. Just the Jedi and their blind ways. Because somehow he had a chance while the rest were still in their graves, faces ash, and many died so he could be here, crying on the floor. But he couldn't get up, because they were alive.

Whole, and blind, but alive. Alive, and he, in his pathetic state will save them.


	5. Crisis at the Heart

**_Notes:_** _Hey,_ _sorry for not being around for some time but I hope that you enjoy this as much as I did. Which to be honest wasn't much. But it was fun to do, in the dark, at 3:00 a.m. Weak with ._

 ** _Disclaimers: I_** _don't own any Star Wars content but this Fanfiction, nor any of its characters, no matter how much I wished that I did._

* * *

 ** _Chapter 5_**

 _Remember the past_

 _To live the future_

 _But run when blood runs cold_

 _And everything gets better._

* * *

The gardens were always the safe haven of many Jedi. Plants of many races, and trees that were brought from the dead, Obi-Wan grew to appreciate the delicacy of the life of plants. Even in the hot sands of Tatooine grew the flowers of the desert, a life among death. After all, with nothing but ghosts around him, plants made excellent listeners. Of course, that also meant that it made him look mad. Which he wasn't (not fully, anyway).

Plants didn't complain when he talked to them. Most were shy and rather had slower growth if not tended correctly. Plants were excellent listeners. Perhaps not of their own will, but Obi-Wan still appreciated it. He talked to and cared for many plants during his long vigil on Tatooine; far too often they were his only company that wasn't ghosts. After all, who would talk to the old Hermit of the desert, the mad Wizard of the Jundland Wastes? Well, maybe young Luke, the boy with far too much kindness for the galaxy. Plants... they were uncomplicated, simple, an embodiment of the Living Force.

And that, sometimes, was all that mattered.

So he meditated among the plants, reminding himself again, and again that the Light wasn't false. That this wasn't a trick of the Sith, that the Light of the younglings, of the temple, even the plants, were real. Everything was quiet for the moment; a silent hush filled his head, like the Temple at night. But it wasn't like the Temple when there was blood splattered and it burned—

Obi-Wan bolted upright, sputtering and flailing as he fruitlessly tried to protect himself from the freezing liquid. _Because what in the hell?!—_

Anakin Skywalker, who looked far too smug, bit his lip in an attempt to stifle his laughter and gave his old master a shrug.

"Hey, I tried to wake you," Anakin protested all too gleefully and not even trying to conceal the bucket in his hand. "I called you like three times, but you weren't answering."

Obi-Wan shot his former apprentice a glare that held no heat because he should've expected this sort of behavior from him. Especially since if Obi-Wan hadn't tolerated it after taking him as his padawan, they probably wouldn't have made it past Anakin's teenage years—or even to his teenage years. Obi-Wan scrubbed his hands over his face and through his dripping hair.

"Yes, yes, now what is it that was so important that you felt the _obligation_ to douse me with water?" he grumbled, then pushed his wet hair away with a sigh of annoyance. So undignified.

"Master Yoda and Master Windu want to speak with you."

Abruptly, Obi-Wan realized that he had arrived at the moment when he had to speak with someone about what has to come, but right now all he wanted to do was to stay in the safety provided by the plants, always whispering and gossiping.

Much like the Jedi Masters in their spare time.

Anakin kept a distance, steps short and calculated. But this time around, Obi-Wan has planned that the cloud of misery surrounding his former Padawan wasn't going to be the problem. As he couldn't let the Fall happen again.

"Anakin, are you alright?" He almost wished that Anakin didn't hear him, because he was emotionally and mentally unable to fight his brother, again—

"I'm fine, Master," Anakin replied swiftly. But Obi-Wan remembered far too much and dreamed far too much in his free time, and he knew that tone far too well. Whereas in another time, Obi-Wan would have let it hang there because the Jedi Master didn't know what to say, from another life. But crazy old hermit of the desert would stop and talk to the young man, asking and worrying. The problem was that he was neither the far-too-young Jedi Master nor the aged-before-his-time mad wizard.

"...Anakin, if you want to talk, Master Yoda and Windu can wait."

Anakin's disbelief and disturbance were enough to throw the Master off balance, because surely he wasn't that bad! He knew the problems always led back to him, that the Galaxy's lights almost fade from the face of the Galaxy itself. But Anakin did know, once, that he cared for the man. Enough to leave everything and everyone for.

"No! It's fine— I'm fine, I just, well... surprised, that's all."

Those words broke through the haze that numbed Obi-Wan's mind; pain and the aftershock bolted him to action. The young man in front of him, uncomfortable with praises and blushing it off, _how could you—_

"Anakin, unlike what you hear or think, mind you, I do care for you. Even with the attachment rule, I do care. Even if it doesn't look like it, I will fight and do everything for you. You're my brother, Anakin." Obi-Wan would often hear his own thoughts in every conversation when he was in the desert. Thinking of maybe, what could he had said, what could have turned him, solidify Anakin in the Light. Mindless thoughts, he thought, because back then, they were the only thing from death.

But now, saying everything that was rehearsed from those sleepless nights seemed to finally pay off. Anakin's face went slack, eyes full of light and blue. Far off from the yellow in the Mustafar.

"I— I, yes. I do understand, I think, I mean—" Anakin could not understand his Master's actions from time to time, especially recently. But never had Anakin thought of what his Master just said: Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Master on the Council itself, the perfect Jedi (who managed to look dignified even dripping wet), was willing to throw everything away for _him_?

Obi-Wan had Attachments.

Anakin knew this, he often teased him about it, but nothing bad. But hearing him admit it aloud was something on the next level.

I should say something, Anakin thought. Maybe the chancellor was wrong because here was Obi-Wan talking and smiling at him. Attached.

The taps of a cane interrupted Anakin's far too confused and dazed thoughts; Master Yoda looked somewhat amused. Anakin wanted to tell his Master that he, too, was attached, that he liked Obi-Wan, he was a great teacher. But Obi-Wan had already started to walk away.

* * *

Master Yoda, the wise grandmaster that he was, thought that the best meeting place to discuss what happened to him would be in the Creche. Of all places, the younglings were excited to see them, Yoda had always been close here. But it seemed that even the austere Jedi Windu didn't want to be here as much as he. Which was a surprise? He remembered a time when he too had come to the classes, unannounced, and the younglings wouldn't get all over him for a scrap of the truth of some impossible mission he had managed to pull off.

He helped a younglings walk from place to place, placing a smile on his face. Such light, far too bright— . . . . Had he really been in such a dark place such a dark place that these bright lights, that seeing them hurt him so? If they were back in the future, they were to be hunted down and ridiculed. Obi-wan had often too much time to think to himself, and these times brought too many memories from times he thought he had buried. Because he was alright, not okay, but okay enough that he to stop the Sith. No problem.

Mace turned to him, annoyed, "So Kenobi, are you feeling any better?"

Amused because there was a small youngling hanging off the leg of the Master, "Oh, yes thank you. Though I have to ask, how are you doing?"

Mace gave a glare because he was family, and when was the last time he teased Mace? Before the war, during? Obi-wan always cherished the Jedi in secret, like a big brother. Which he didn't know what that relation was like, he knew it was somewhat similar. When —finally — the Grandmaster left the youngling's group, most had dispatched and left them be.

"How are you? Well, I hope?" Master Yoda hummed. The younglings long went, but his tone still pleasant and if he was talking to younglings himself. But by the gods, he had missed this, far too long had he been into hiding.

"Yes, Master Yoda, thank you." Because he knew that he wouldn't be able to lie to the Grandmaster and that of the events that he knew that he carried. He needed to tell someone, warn them of what has to come, and here he was ready to tell them. The anticipation of the vents came rushing back like the Force was pushing and pulling at the same time. Calming himself, before he did something the Skywalkers would do, he put back the mask, for now.

And Master Yoda only hummed.

But, say the situation was as he predicted, and told someone, would they believe him? Locked up for a mind healer, or believe him and kill him for such information. No, he hadn't killed and scratched through everything, only for him to die for nothing, to say no warning. Becuase even with everything, the Jedi were still and forever be his family. If he had traveled through all of this bloodshed and had lived through the sounds of dead younglings, and feeling the Galaxy's lights dimmed and cut odd abruptly. . . only to finish here?

But then he would hear the screams that held him at night. The screams of innocents and the screams that echoed in the Force, where lights should have been, instead was the cold dread. Screams filled on helpless and terror, pain, and suffering— screams of his brother as he burned.

So in the actions of his past, he was eager to tell as many people in the galaxy, but he had to bring himself to tell people about it. . . well, it wasn't going to be easy. Because he was supposed to help the galaxy, and train Anakin to be better, to bring the darkness to light, and well the odds were stacked against him. But when did that stop him?

* * *

The strange feeling of seeing someone that was dead for years was never getting old. Master and padawans, all alive and walking, never slowing down brought Obi-wan to take arms faster. Even the Force itself was urging, whispering in his ears to move faster. Pople didn't question when he passed them with a quick paste because he had to repeat the phrase: you're Obi-wan Kenobi, General of the Republic, and Jedi Master, of course, you're busy. Becuase he had adoring eyes everywhere, from Jedi to The room was dark, the blue holo light lightens the room. Master Yoda was there

Obi-wan just hoped that the mission went as planned.


	6. Point of Stress

**A/N's:** DAMMIT I HAVEN'T WATCHED THE LAST JEDI AND PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SPOILT AND I'M CAN'T READ ANY FANFICTION.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters, even if I wished I did. Only this unrealistic plotline is mine, thanks and goodnight.

* * *

 **Point of Stress**

 _What if we ran?_

 _Would you come with me?_

 _And if I was to die, would you care?_

 _My point of stress_

* * *

 _Geonosis Droid Factory_

Obi-Wan held to the handle for dear life as the shop rattled and shook from the fire outside. The particles of sand, always, somehow got into the ship with the clone troopers with him. He remembered this mission with much accuracy. He and Anakin, with the help of Ki-Adi-Mundi, would lead the invasion as the two padawans would destroy the factory.

And the following examples and events would be entirely up to him. He didn't wish any harm on Ahsoka or the padawan who would eventually Fall. They were both yet somewhat innocent, untouched by the horror of future events. Even Ahsoka, he could save her from the Council's decision and save the clones from the bugs' mind-controlling worm, through the Clone Wars. He could—

The explosion rattled the metal through the deck, he could feel the shaking feeling through his bones. Cody, always loyal and ready to help, steadied him on his feet. Obi-Wan smiled and pretended not to notice how all week the clones had given him concerned glances. He had apologized before the mission about how he was too dizzy and he was better now.

Even though he was pale and shaking. But the landing wasn't much smoother than last time. But as soon as he got out the firing began.

"Commander! Make sure your troops are ready!" He wasn't exactly lying to Mundi when he was fondling over his last memories here. He hoped that with some change they wouldn't be shot down this time around. But the Force wasn't a merciful being.

 _"General Kenobi, don't land! The zone is hot!"_

Obi-Wan knew what came next, as the ship rocked.

"But there's nowhere else to go." But that didn't mean he wasn't afraid, of what is to come and the 'if's' of what would happen to the others.

"We're hit! We're going down!" The pilot maneuvered, through the crash. At first, there was nothing wrong, the flatness wasn't too bad. Then there was the knock on the brute force. The white noise was stuffing his ears with cotton as he blinked several times.

He was lying down, the top of the ship riddled with holes and smoke, his ribs throbbing, and there was the shouting that brought his head from the water. It started small, the noise from his ears, still ringing, he stood with the fellow clones—

— _Stormtroopers, here to kill me. They killed them_ —

"Get ready! We cannot get distracted now!" _Hypocritical_ , but he couldn't stop the thoughts as he ran with the clones. Not stormtroopers, no matter what would happen, or will? Didn't matter because these men are his friends, and he needed to concentrate on this mission. He remembered enough, enough to keep these men alive and well for the next mission.

— _He also remembered them killing his family, his friends, and the_ younglings—

He needed this mission, even if it meant playing dumb for a while, even if it meant playing god with people's lives. Taking this mission was about the only thing he could do to take his mind out of his decaying thoughts. He needed this as much as the rest of the war. Even as he could feel the darkness blocking his access to see clearly, but he didn't need that. He could see more clearly than he could ever.

The Force whispered into his ear, urging and pulling.

 _go_

 _Go_

 ** _GO_**

"Take cover!" He fought to push the pain aside and struggled vainly to clear his head. His vision was cutting in and out and nothing sounded right, then he caught a clear snippet of his memories that didn't belong – not at this time, not this place. Obi-Wan pulled clones from the fire as he and the rest covered the others. Had this been the same way that he remembered?

But he was pulled up with the two clones, Waxed and Boil. With Trapper along his side.

There was another explosion. He pulled himself upright because he needed to keep his head high and to keep himself from falling. He activated his lightsaber, the steady blue light giving himself some reassurance. Another explosion rocked the earth, and this time there was a sharp pain in his chest, stealing his breath and almost knocking him to the ground. The medic tried to help him, but Obi-Wan brushed it away because right now it wasn't the time.

"M'fine." Obi-Wan pulled his head away and gripped the frame of the fallen carrier, trying to pull his weight back over his own two feet. It seemed his brain and body had two different ideas about what should happen next, the Force gave no little warning as he felt something splinter deep inside his chest, something that went deeper than blood and bone.

He stood upright. He needed to be a General now, a Jedi Master, even if he wasn't one anymore.

"Pull the survivors out! Create a line and defend it!" He knew this, so why were his hands shaking so much? He was pulled under his feet as he staggered away from another explosion of rubble and rocks from the Geonosians.

 _Warning._

 _Yes, he needed to warn the Jedi, and the clones, the Senate. There were too many people, billions of lives here and now, or there and then?_

"Defend the lines, and get contact with the others! We cannot fail this!" Obi-Wan pulled a trooper from the ground, falling to a step as he glanced at the commander. Another sharp pain in his head.

 _Warning._

 _ **Warning**._

"Captian any luck with communication?!" Everything going on around him, he feared that the commander couldn't hear. But the commander signaled a 'no'. Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered in time with his rapid heartbeat. He couldn't let them die here.

"Somebody keep him level!"

Clones rapidly defended from the Geonosians, the circle strong. He hoped Anakin wouldn't take so long like last time.

* * *

 _This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi—"_

"—we need a medic!" A trooper spoke, clear through the haze, and it sounded _so_ familiar. They all did.

 _"Master Obi-Wan Kenobi—"_

Frightened voices were screaming at him now. They didn't know what to do. But they were screaming at him because of he is a Jedi Master, their savior. He now knew better than to hope that Anakin and Ahsoka wouldn't take as long. Or maybe the Force hated him as much as he is hating it right now? He doesn't know anymore.

 _"I regret—_ _I regret to inform you. This message is a warning to any surviving—_ _To any surviving—_

He now left a message hoping that no one would find it. But that didn't matter now as he saved another clone from a blaster shot, but in turn, two more were shot. Was it really this bloody last time?

 _"This message—"_

"Sir! Another message failed to get through!" Dammit, dammit, dammit. Why is everything going to hell? He reviewed everything before the trip, going over and over analyzing what he could do and things to avoid. But everything seemed to be going okay on a code, instead, he felt that everything was going growing apart.

"Defend the line! Get a medic over here!''

 _This message is a **warning—"**_

He hissed at the burn, the shock and the smell of smoked flesh entering and leaving as he had gotten so used to the smell. His hope ridden on Anakin, and he knew the future, he knew Anakin wouldn't let him down, but the doubt started to sink in its fangs. _What if he said something wrong? What if he changed something so small and overlooked qt it changed the complete mission itself? What if?—_

The "what if's" is really getting to him. And the cursed pains and visions, the added pressure of the future almost made Obu-wan collapse under his own feet. But he pulled even as he screamed and sobbed underneath his pulled fingertips, he didn't collapse because they needed him.

 _Geonosis, destroyed._

He rubbed his eyes, away from the dust, fluttering as the scenery changed. Instead of blushed fires of the guns, there was

 _As Droids, and a war that was never finished._

He pulled himself to his feet, igniting his 'saber. He pulled the labored breaths in and out, he needed to concentrate and fight the pain while protecting his troops injured. No problem. But as soon as the grim reality settled, Hope rose as men creamed, "Reinforcements!"

There was no moment of peace as men literally jumped up and down in celebration of the given change of living another day. The sloppy grin made it into his face, he knew and he was saved. _They were saved,_ even through the thick and thin. He slumped back into the hard sand, too much different than the sand was used to of Tatooine. The orders of men moving were far away, but on the horizon, he could see the colors of hope that came with Anakin, Ahsoka, and Mundi.

''Master Kenobi!" Ahsoka, so young and fire-spirited, he watched fondly as she crouched next to him, mindful of the burns and injuries.

"Well, what happened to you?" And of course, Anakin is as cocky as ever. Mundi behind them, a silent more obverse but happy to see them alive. But he was so relieved and happy to see them alive, dirty and wounded but alive. He gave a dry chuckle, that pulled at his throat.

"I might ask you the same question," But they were alive.

And Anakin is here, Ahsoka is still there, and Obi-wan isn't a failure yet.

* * *

He shouldn't be doubting himself.

It was bad for himself and his soul, he was once told, but he went over the plan over and over again. There was nothing wrong with it. His fellow Jedi and clones said it was brilliant. But how he wished that he was on the front lines instead of falling back as he could see that everything was okay and they weren't dying as easily.

But even so, as he was helped to his feet and his old padawan at his side, there was the little snake of the doubt. It was harmless now, but it would bite at the most unceremonial times whenever possible.

Eyes gleaming, Ahsoka is now tempting and calling Anakin, "Ah c'mon Master! Are you afraid you'll lose this time?" With a cocky, yet amused smirk.

Anakin snapped back, a small rush to his words, "Fine, fifty-five that's my count, and you?" Oh, he could see her smug face, just by the Force. And Obi-wan fought so hard to keep his expression bored and blank. If he was mad at them.

"Sixty. Looks like I won,'' And for a padawan winning and having a better score than her Master was the most important thing in the Galaxy of course.

"Yeah, but I called in the air strike. Tied!" Anakin, like he remembered last time, turns and waved his wins , if Obi-wan wasn't hanging from his shoulder.

"You're impossible," She huffed and rolled her eyes, but still fab an amused air.

"I'll never understand your little games oh dear padawan mine," Obi-wan finally objected, not caring for the lines that he once said.

Anakin rubbed the back if his head as Obi-wan was loaded to the carrier, ''Take care of yourselves, I expect to see you both back by the time I've destroyed the main factory."

''We shall do our best"

"Sixty-nine," Master Mundi declared innocently if he was correcting a wrong weather report.

''I'm sorry?"

Master Mundi chided, "My total, sixty-nine. So what do I win?''

Anakin with his wide eye look, gave a awed look to them, "My everlasting respect, Master Mundi.''

"Oh," _Oh indeed,_ Obi-wan _laughed_ , becuase by gods he missed this. "That is a gift that Anakin rarely bestows, I assure you."

* * *

The stale air in the infirmary wasnt making the headache any easer to deal with. He should tell them that he was okay, and yes he's hurt, but that doesn't stop him from fighting.

But freaking out on the medics and staff wasn't going to make things easier for himself or for the war. Obi-wan should really stop feeling for a few seconds and make a list.

Because his Master said that when he needed something done he should make a list. Top priorities.

 _There were too many. Too much._

Even if it was a bit too much for him to handle today, he could to it for tomorrow. But there was also the problem that was the Droid Factory. He read the report, when he was still somewhat sane and see through the details. But the dangling doubt is still there.

 _Because what if Ahsoka doesn't make it out? Or Anakin doesn't find her in time? What if he_ leaves _her?_

It was all just... _too much_.

 _ **Warning.**_

" _Obi-wan listen for a change, it could help you,"_ That is his Master, a helping voice when he needed it the most. But there is a part of him that _loathed_ him for leaving him, for giving him a chance and leaving him to mess it up.

But he detested and recoiled from within when he knows that he can't blame anyone for his mistakes, that he chose this.

" _Obi-wan I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for you to feel that I had abounded you."_

Right now that doesn't matter, what matters is stopping the war, save the Jedi Order, keep Anakin from Falling, save the clones _—_

Too many difficult things for him to orbit around.

"It's okay Master," The silence greeted him in the space.

". . . _No it is not Obi-wan. No matter how much you look at it, I failed you too many times, my old padawan."_ And Obi-wan's eyes burned and his throat started to close up, shivers and goosebumps plucked his skin.

How many nights has he stayed awake, praying and begging until his throat was bloody, just to hear those words?

But now he needed to keep them safe, he didn't want to scare them.

" _Obi-wan it's okay, you do not need to save the Galaxy here and now. Clear your head, analyze and you'll be okay._ " He looked down on the chewed finger nails. He could see the reflection on the metal a few feet away, his chapped lips, his mess of his hairs that won't stay down no matter what you do to them. Dry skin irritated skin, the dark under his eye.

Yeah, he really wants to sleep now.

But right now he needs to save peoppe, and warn the Jedi, the _—_

He knows he shouldn't, but suddenly there's the smell of Qui-Gon Jinn's Rae tea, and the softness underneath him, and the trend fingers on his hair, he fell asleep before he could do anything.

* * *

The tea helped him to distract from the need to remove his hair roughly, tearing it follicle by follicle, until his scalp was nothing but a bald mess of rust and crimson. The air was cool, the mere hours ago was gone, he needs to sleeping, because it is something precious and a privilege. But no matter what he does the ache deep in his bones remains.

One would argue that Obi-wan is simply taking too much time and not getting anything done. After all, how many days gage passed since his second chance?

How many have died because he couldn't stand up? Because how weak he is?

No, he couldn't let any one see him. How red-eye he had become.

He would bite at his nails till they were down to the wick, broken and jagged enough to tear his eyes out. So he made a list. Like he said he should do, but now he just wants to sleep forever.

First and foremost he needed evidence that the Chancellor of The Republic is secretly a Sith Lord. No few words will save the years of corruption through Sidious in the Republic.

Enough that there will be a majority and hopefully a new Era will beginning. Even if it means dealing with politics.

No easy task, but it is possible if he believes hard enough.

The Second that he needs to do, is possible easier than the first, is putting the Jedi Order in a new light. There were still too many fraudulent and mock-up stories. That they were invisible, magical beings. Not enough of an individual to feel emotions, but enough that they have high morals.

So try to make Jedi humans. No problem.

Save the clones, is on the third most important thing to do. Well almost.

And there the curios case of Anakin Skywalker.

He knows now, the tricks of Palpatine, and the chips of the clones. He could still save Anakin, but _—_

 _—does he want need saving?_

He does, he just doesn't know it yet. He knows how Darth Vader came from. He was there after all. Obi-wan always remembers Padme's last plea. Of saving Anakin. He won't fail this time.

This time, there will be no Darth Vader or Darth Sidious. There will be no Order 66, or the rise of The Empire.

Even if it means his own death.


	7. Point of Stress-II

**Notes** _:_ Hey, sorry I took so long in updating this. There is no excuse but to say that I'm a piece of human garbage (but who isn't?) Anyway, I have watched the Last Jedi now, so there's that. There will be no spoilers for that here, expect in many the later chapters. To make up for the lack of updates this is longer than before, so yeah enjoy.

 **Disclaimer:** Nothing here belongs to me, just the imagination.

* * *

 **The Point Of Stress -II**

 _The binary suns of Tatooine are brothers_

 _One ran and the other seeks revenge_

 _an old tale, spoken by the old tounges of forgotten heroes._

* * *

Obi-wan was sure that the medics wanted to kill him, ironically.

Becuase they said, that he wasn't having enough sleep or enough nutritions his system. It wasn't that Obi-wan wanted to objectively worsen his health or make a burden of himself, but now isn't the time to take care of himself. This causes them to, momentarily, cause Obi-wan hell.

The medical facility, that he knew Anakin would join him soon enough, didn't seem to have enough space. The room was wide and open, but the claustrophobic feeling wasn't washed away. Medical supplies are desperately needed for a crucial Republic battlefront. That was the point that would lead both Padawan Barriss Offee and Ahsoka to escort the medical frigate to its destination. Which was here. But Obi-wan isn't stupid, he knows of what Ahsoka told her of the journey.

He didn't want that to happen again because lives would be lost if he didn't speak up. And if he did, what would he say? _Oh, I had a very bad vision!_

He was starting to regret not telling anyone. Should he tell someone now? Or wait until the dust, somewhat, settled and then tell someone? He leaned back into the stiff cushion, better than what he had in Tatooine, _Well, if everything turns out fine, thought Obi-wan, then they won't throw me immediately into the mind healers and get a few words out before they decided I'm crazy._

Which he wasn't judgemental about because Obi-wan knew he a few dark places in his isolated mind, a few two decades alone in Tatooine would do that to a person. Obi-wan needed to take a breath. And take things slowly.

Then everything happened far too quickly, being shipped off to the ground, remembering the runaway General, the two padawans. Looking at Ahsoka now, so young and full of life, was too painful at times.( _And when did her voice sounded so young? Too young for war, too young for what will happen_

Geonosis reminded him of Tatooine, of course, the sand is too thick and the texture and color is wrong, but the sheer sense of never-ending hills took him back. He wondered what Anakin was feeling.

( _He secretly wondered if he can kill Poggle the Lesser himself as he is forced to deal with more sand_.)

The clones troopers too were having a hard time getting through the storm, he had to physically stop himself from screaming or flinching every time they got too close. (He considered an accomplishment he didn't flinch three times in a row when they were first paired off.)

Leading the mission to destroy a droid factory on Geonosis is easy enough. Sending padawans to destroy the factory? Easy. What wasn't easy is dealing with Anakin. At every turn and corner, he was there and it adds to the very heavy weight of failure on his shoulders.

But now he had other problems to deal with and to focus now.

Unfortunately, the nightmare known as Anakin Skywalker walks into the picture, and he knew right there that the Force had it out for him.

"Hey, Master I hope you're feeling better because this will get ugly soon!"

Obi-wan had for all honestly completely forgotten the indestructible super tanks. Tall, imposing and there to kill them.

Joy.

But if Obi-wan had one thing that could surpass anything is his skills to act as a decoy. He just hoped everything passes smoothly and he doesn't have too much of a headache when he's done with all of this.

* * *

"Damn it!" Obi-wan wanted to punch something so hard. He didn't want to go through all of this again. The bugs were picking off clones and the tanks were blocking their plan, the padawans, hopefully, were going according to plan.

Because if he wants to he and Anakin can go through the scary cave and act surprised when all clone troopers start dying and they find a huge fat queen bug. The Force really was out to get him.

* * *

"Maybe Anakin we shouldn't just Waltz in, and take a good action plan," Obi-wan whispers as he crouched silently looking at the Queen. Was she really that fat, and ugly as he remembered? "And we can't put Master Luminara Unduli in danger!"

"C'mon Master where is your sense of adventure?" Whispering like younglings in enemy territory wasn't uncommon, but now he really just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up to deal with everything.

"Ok, here's the plan."

* * *

The steady rhythm of the ship steadies him as he walked through the halls. A vast comparison to what happened in Geonosis. Anakin is still there and sometimes he feared that one day he would wake up and everything will go to hell.

That he didn't even have a chance to change anything.

Walking through the door, the walls unclenched and the pressure holding down his lungs evaporated. He is safe. Just for now.

He was too tired. Tired of playing the loops of time, as he paraded and pretended that he didn't know what was going to happen. Then he would magically come up with some clever plan that would save more clones, more Jedi, and keep Anakin away from the darkness.

But it is not enough. He had to help Anakin overcome the darkness within, not only from those out in the galaxy. He just needs time. But with all of that, he is still alive and still breathing so he will save the galaxy. But he needed to meditate on that.

Stating down that he was to meditate is easier said than done.

* * *

Meditation

 _Hello Master, I haven't . . . done this in a while. Technically I haven't done this in years, but that isn't why I'm doing this now. I hope you can hear me, not hiding like those old days in Tatooine._

 _Today was . . . interesting. It is strange to see so muchlife, and light in the Galaxy. All those years in Tatooine haven't done well for my mental health. Is it bad for me to wince every time I look into the Force? Have I really been that cynical, spending that much time in darkness, that I have forgotten what the Light looks like? Anakin and Ahsoka, they are so full of it, Master._

 _Really, if I haven't gone into battle just a couple of hours ago, with two padawans on some risky mission. All things aside, it was exposing being on the battlefield again. It took some time to. . . Adjust being surrounded by people again._

 _Especially if those people, you remember, quite vividly being dead._

 _I wonder now, all years passed, of what became of Annileen Calwell and her children. My best years in Tatooine were bearable thanks to her. She would have been in Alderaan when it exploded. Hopefully, she would have a better chance this time around._

 _Anakin, he . . . How to describe him?_

 _Too much light, and here I thought the Jedi were full of it, looking at him is like looking at the Tatooine suns!_

 _But thinking of the possible future, the pain, the sorrow, and the suffering. I have to talk to someone about it. I don't know who, or when. It's slowly killing me, and I know I won't change everything, but maybe you can guide me like you said, but I don't know what to do, or—_

 _No, I must not think like that._

 _. . . I do apologize, but I think I'm about to be interrupted._

* * *

It was a clone trooper, who upon knocking, said that they requested his presence on the bridge. Obi-wan knew what was going to happen, anyhow he still went willingly. That was the thing that brought men to their knees, and cower from the knowledge they carry on their shoulders. But not him. He couldn't afford it. By now, he should try to contact Ahsoka's ship and try to get everyone to safety.

But of course, here comes Anakin. "Hey Master, heading for the control room?"

"Yes, walk with me, won't you?" Obi-wan wistful longed for a moment like this, even during the war.

Walking through clones and battle plans, it was enough of a distraction when Anakin talked again. "Hey, Master?"

 _Cautious. Tight. Alert._

He didn't like this tone. "Hmm?"

". . . You know you can tell me what's happening to you." The Data in front of him is suddenly light years away. His throat tightens at the mere thought of speaking to Anakin about the possible future.

"I.. I understand, forgive me for not being my usual self. We can talk later in private if you wish to," Anakin looked guilty, why would he look guilty?

"I know, and sorry for you know, giving you a hard time. Especially with everything going on," Obi-wan held no memory of Anakin being difficult during his return.

In fact, he was quiet. Almost cool off as he remembered, unless on the battlefield.

"Anakin, you know that you can tell me anything you want? I will not judge you or condemn you in any way." Maybe if he dropped more subtle hints throughout the day, Anakin may finally say something.

But Anakin frowned, a dark look passing through his face. It was far too similar to Vader- cold menacing and there to kill him- Obi-wan breathing fought his lungs as he remained, or trying to, keep himself from having a flashback.

He was a Jedi Master for crying out loud!

He could keep his emotions under control, he wasn't some youngling. But, his efforts brought no justice, as he saw the surprised and hurt face of Anakin. Why would he—

"Sir, we have Commander Tano on the line," Anakin stepped back, his face dark. This isn't how his conversations with him should have gone.

"Alright, get her online."


	8. Voices from within

**Notes:** Hello, yay! I have updated like I promise. Sorry that it took so long to publish this, but I really did try to come up with this as fast as possible. Anyway, this chapter was supposed to be at least two thousand words long, but unfortunately I couldn't give that much this chapter but hopefully next chapter, I will manage to give three thousand. Ha, who am I kidding

Anyway, please do leave a review, and tell me what you think so far. I live for that.

warnings: violence, PDST, war, things like that

 **Disclaimer:** I sadly do not own anything from Star Wars, but ideas.

* * *

 **In Between**

 _I will dedicate my very being_

 _For one time of rightness_

 _But time is an illusion, rising from time_

 _Oh how my choices will play out_

 _When do I know my choices will be nothing?_

* * *

 _Save Ahsoka. Save the girl you consider to be a daughter._

The Force was demanding quietly, yet with a fast pressure behind his eyes. "Ahsoka, come in. Are you there?" The line on the other side held silence and Obi-wan breathe as he waited. Where is she? Had he been too foolish, too patient, how-

" _Master Kenobi?"_

A sigh of relief, he knows he has to explain himself. The light fury in the Force behind him is ever growing. His rightfulness anger licking his back. Unfornutaly the moment is right now, he straightens his back.

"I must apologize, but please restrain from entering the ship. I fear there might be an unwanted guest boarding. Please check every clone and every person there."

A second passed by, and her voice immediately shited to one of tight concern and worry, " _What? But Master Kenobi what about Master's Windu's-"_

"Let me worry about that right now, I'll send more reinforcements. For now, check everything. Kenobi out," This is rash and unthinkable, the sheer politics and the number of troops lost under Mace because they didn't get there. Like a butterfly effect, he did something and the cards would follow. But for now to deal with the issue at hand.

"Anakin a word," Obi-wan turn a blind eye to the eye contact between both Anakin and Cody. Told himself that he didn't care.

Finally behind closed doors, away from anything that could get in the way, Obi-wan finally look Anakin in the eye since coming back. To look into one deep soul, and tell them a deep secret.

''Anakin, do you trust me?"

Anakin halted, such thought never enters his mind unwanted. It usually is the other way around, the council and Obi-wan not trusting him. He threw his hand around his neck, nervously.

"You know that I do, Master."

"Anakin what I'm about to tell you I haven't told anyone. Not the council or any other soul. You must never, _ever_ tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. _No one,"_ Anakin had witnessed over the years, the many faces that his Master could do. Rarely did he take them off, but this?

This face speaks volumes that his Master could do, heavy and private. _Afraid_. Not his Master's face.

"I— I understand," _Not really,_ His face fell a little, conflicted and a visible war on his features. If almost as if he heard him.

"I apologize for putting you in this position Anakin. I . . . I have been having visions. In the future, and that's why I didn't let Ahsoka go on the ship." It wasn't really a lie, much more of a half-told truth. He _did_ technically have visions. He is just merely trying to lie to himself about it.

Visions. Dream-like webs that tangle one's mind to only leave it a mess. A mess that Anakin Skywalker knew what it felt like to untangle himself from. And the man hadn't said a word to anyone? Even when Obi-wan _knew_ his struggles. Knew what he had to faced and what he felt when he trashed around on his sheets, caught in a bad game.

"I don't understand, Why didn't you tell the council or the Healers! And when did you have the visions? Becuase I didn't sense anything in the Force!" Anakin, his brother, he wanted nothing more than to beg for forgiveness, to let his knees drop and cry his soul out. Another part of himself, a darker part, where he buried, screamed and raged into his shields, to demand the head of Anakin for everything he has yet committed.

Time really sucked.

"I— I understand, I'm sorry. We can talk later if you wish. But really understand, I didn't go to the Jedi because I don't—" He didn't what? Such little words weighted more than he could carry, "I don't trust them. Not like I trust you." There, an old wound ripped open for the world to see, and Anakin didn't even know.

And for Anakin? He stood there, like a newly padawan, still and with wary wide eyes.

"I, thank you, Master. I swear to you that I won't tell anyone," That brought a tiny smile to his face. Even after everything, Anakin is a soft spot for his soul. Even after everything he—

No. Don't think about it.

His comlink beeped. The council, out of his blood, to demand why the supply ship wasn't en route to support. Obi-wan already wary, now really felt all the years weight down into his bones, like a heavy blanket settling into his bones if it belonged there. A quick glance to Anakin, his back half showing, and the beeping restless getting more demanding. Anakin half ready to bolt out of the room.

Conflicted he nodded to him as he walked past him, with a heavy heart and his chest feeling a pressure that refused to budge. Walking away the edges of his vision darkened a bit. The walk was a well caffeinated and with the quick determined steps of a man on a mission to save lives.

Just not his own.

And that was the most tragic part of this tale.

* * *

Decades of living made most of the Jedi Order pretty easy to read, especially at this point in his life. Anakin still wore most of his emotions in the open where everyone could see. An open book. He could see his brother is one part nervous, one part pissed, and two parts worried.

Yoda was a bit more difficult to read, as the Jedi Master often masked his emotions, but Obi-wan didn't possess the ability to see now what the Grandmaster thought. Plo on their other hand seemed more relax yet alert. A good place to start.

"Masters, I was given the fact that the ship an route to assistance was compromised. We did a background, and found that there were parties on a clone." Obi-wan was pretty sure that wasn't going to convince them of that fact, but they did seem to get the whole parasite thing.

 _That's easy to explain. Right?_ Obi-wan opened his mouth to tell them where he got the info and then a snarky suggestion of what they could do with it, but before the words could cross his lips his a flare interrupted him.

It started like a murmur, like a distant hum at the back of his mind. Obi-wan shook his head, trying to rid himself of the sound, but it only grew louder, rolling closer like thunder.

Then the fire hit him.

Like a liquid inferno, it seared through him with a vengeance, slamming into his shields, racing along his veins and igniting his nerves. It ricocheted between his head and chest before shattering outwards, tearing through him.

Riding on the heels of the fire were noises so loud he strained against the ropes, desperate to block it out. Cries and whispers screamed in his ears like nails dragged across a chalkboard. Images followed at a dizzying pace, searing through his mind, obliterating everything.

 _" I have taught you everything I know. and you have become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be. but be patient, Anakin"_

 _"I'm one with the Force. The Force is with me."_

 _" It's over Anakin! I have the high ground."_

 ** _"Hope."_**

Pressure built inside of him until he was sure his body would snap in half from the force alone. Things he never wanted to remember, never wanted to forget—they surged forward in tangled, confused clumps, overlapping each other, demanding attention. Remembering voices, some not of his own, different and blurs of colors that went too fast for him to even process what they were.

Voices from within.

 _"You underestimate my power!"_

 _"This is where the fun begins."_

 _"In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, you're under arrest, Chancellor."_

 _"The truth is often what we make of it; you heard what you wanted to hear, believed what you wanted to believe."_

 _"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."_

 _"You can't stop the change, any more than you can stop the suns from setting."_

He couldn't breathe.

He fought to pull air through lungs that had been beaten flat by the pounding of his own heart. He felt himself slip toward the edge of a dark cliff, the ground crumbling beneath his feet as his own personal Hell opened up before him. He tried to pull away from the noise, the pain, but it surrounded him, consumed him, came from inside him.

Voices carried by time. voices so aching familiar but without a face, who was speaking? Where-

Leia.

Luke.

Oh god, where is Anakin?

He felt something splinter deep inside his chest, something that went deeper than blood and bone. He was being ripped into tiny pieces, each piece buckling and turning to ash under the intense pressure. He could vaguely hear voices from the outside, demanding what was happening.

 _"' Don't try it."_

 _"Luke, you're going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view."_

 _"I have failed you Anakin. I have failed you."_

 _"Why, you stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf herder!"_

 _" Rey. . . These are you're my first steps"_

A copper tang filled his mouth, coated his tongue, causing him to gag in between the impossibly loud screams echoing in his head. What is happening to him? Why is everything hurt so much?

 _'' So this is how liberty dies. .with thunderous applause.''_

* * *

"Has it been done?"

"Yes Master, soon we will be able to learn Kenobi's secrets."

A dark glee found its way to his face, "Good."


	9. The Rising, The Growing, The Falling

**Notes:** _Hello! Long time no see! So, you have probably been waiting for ages for the chapter, so here we go! It took a bit more than expected but here we are. Thanks for not killing me, I guess. [Edit:] AHA! YOU THOUGHT THAT DARTH VADER WASN'T GOING TO BE SHOWN AT ALL. YOU HAVE BEEN FOOLED. Now let me clear up some things. Technically Obi-wan did die, and that's what he means when he thought he died, the Force is weird, and we all know what wanky shit it can do._

 _If time travel is possible, why can't Obi-wan now little things from here and there, his ''soul'' is tied to the Force, so he could know about Rey? It would explain the whole little voice in the scene when Rey picked the lightsaber._

 _See you next time I update!_

 **Disclaimer:** _This, unfortunately, does not belong to me or anyone but Disney now. Blood, gore, etc._

* * *

 **The Growing, The Rising, The Falling**

 _Eyes. Scream. Saber. Pain_  
 _Eyes. Scream. Saber. Pain._  
 _Eyes. Scream. Saber. Pain._

 _And around we go._

 _Pain. Sorrow. And re-wind._

* * *

 _Pain. Sorrow. Oh God, where is he?_

 _Twin Suns. Buring brightly behind the waves of sand. He could taste the bile metallic taste of blood behind his throat. The horrific smell of blood and smoke filled his senses. Tattoine. He was on Tatooine._

 _Here to protect and guard. To watch over when the twin suns rose and fell. To watch over the last link to a lost family. And there were two burned chalks on the sand floor. In front of the homestead._

 _Skeletons, arms pulled away and reaching for an unknown._

 _Beru. Owen._

 _But . . . That isn't right. He watched over them, did he? Was he watching them? He was told . . . something. But this isn't real. Because he knows now, he remembers the temple, the Jedi still alive and breathing. The Empire would not have a chance to grow from the despair of the people._

 _Right?_

 _It wasn't a dream. Yet, why was Luke crying?_

 _He must protect the son of Skywalker no matter the cost. He would lay down his life if it came to it. He did . . . didn't he?_

 _Why can't he remember?_

 _He was in the Jedi Temple, but also on Tatooine, watching over the infant that would bring Hope. But he died protecting Luke. God, everything hurts._

 _He is protecting Luke from . . . a constant rhymic heavy breathing fills the void between his hollow mind. It is bouncing all around him, making it feel as if he was there, and-_

 _Fire. Lava. Mustafar._

 _Back circling in the beginning, if this was some show in a display._

 _"NO! STOP THIS!" The body shown in front of him was his brother. Burned black, fingernails falling and pulled off as he failed to pull himself upwards the safety of the rocks. The screaming was back._

 _Younglings, and of his brother, his normally blue eyes, full of mischief and light, dark twisted and an ugly yellow. Hate, Hate, Hate, so much Hate._

 _"What have I done?' He tried to go forward, downwards to pull his bother out of the clutches of the fire, away from the darkness that loomed over him. If not then to drop himself in there, to die than to carry on._

 _But his arms and legs were chained, gravity took deep into his bones, and the smoke and the smell of burning flesh kept burning his eyes. How long has he been crying?_

 _"STOP! STOP IT! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP IT!" Whatever entity heard him, granted him one last mercy as the screams had finally stopped. He didn't want to look. To see the burning figure of his brother. Dead or not. If his brother wasn't making any more noise, it was likely he was no longer alive. If he wasn't alive he could no longer suffer. He could no longer feel the pain he had endured for the last few minutes —or hours?— as the fire slowly and expertly pulled him apart._

 _If his brother had been making noise, that would mean he was alive, and where there is life there is hope._

 _—Luke, Skywalker, Leia, Rey, **Hope** —_

 _At least that's what Anakin kept telling him. Yet, whatever hope he once held had been beaten, battered, and ripped from him by the sith. There was nothing left to hope for. Even with the walls closing in with no way out he knew he couldn't give up, no matter how much he wanted to. His brother wouldn't have given up, and he couldn't—wouldn't—let his brother down. Not again. He had to finish what they came here to do. And if it was to end here, he would go out fighting._

 _So his eyes travel to the bottom of the bank, and his brother was gone, there now stood a menace dark figure._

 _Darth Vader_

 _He clenched his jaw and tore his gaze away from the sight. And the mechanical rhymical breathing descended and filled the hollow silence. Darkness swallowed everything._

* * *

"How long has he been unresponsive?" The hall held a quiet scene, two figures whispered as another laid on the cloth machinery and wring around him.

"I'm sorry Master, but he has been unresponsive for three days now. He collapsed after successfully evacuating ship heading towards a medical station from a parasite. We do not know when he may be waking." A solemn silence followed. The figure released a weary sigh as he sat on the chair, facing the resting Master. Unmoving, and pale. The only hope was the rising chest. A second passed between them, the distance sounds of the temple behind them, and beyond that was of the busy city.

"What will the council do Master Windu?"

The Master crossed his knuckles as he stared heavily at the figure on the bed. Without flinching, he said, "We have decided to follow the procedure. Prepare him."

* * *

 _Kenobi," That is an impressive amount hatred and loathness, in such six letters. He almost smiled. Such act unwilling reminded him of a certain cyborg._

 _"Hello Darth," A mockery of the title of his new name, an offense which to all sith, and this didn't go unnoticed by him. The dark sleek reflected the fire of the lava that flowed in a theoretical way. He repeated a few prayers to his own mind, to keep himself from flinching and weeping at the sight of his padawan._

 _—His brother, his padawan, his responsibility, his child, why?—_

 _"You did this, you killed me and them," He wasn't in the lava-filled world, but in the temple, clones and younglings alike dead on the floor. Jedi, his brothers dead but pointing their fingers and their faces warped into one last hateful condemnation._

 _"No! I did not do this! I-," He couldn't face the bodies, the dark menacing figure of pure darkness stayed silent, a judgment, condemning him. He didn't do this. But no matter how much he screamed at himself, he could still hear the screams, the darkness creeping in —_

 _—the darkness that was not his own._

 _A darkness that doesn't come from within, Vader stepped forward. "Look at what you have done, Kenobi. You did this."_

 _But he forces himself to look away, to concentrate. As a steady pressure would eventually leave him on his knees, fingers scrapping his skin, leaving red trails, and a forced screamed pasted his lips. Even if the Force here had abounded him, the darkness was creeping in, but he would not let it in. Not even as the rhymic breathing filled his ears. He blocked it, even though the hands of the dead, so cold, cold and bitter —_

 _His chest hurt, a pressure that folded into himself, as tremors ran through his body. A vile burned his throat and he tried to convince himself that the tears were from the vomit, not of pain._

 _Cold. Everything here is too cold. A menacing laugh filled the pit-holes, as the rhymic breathing blocked his ears._

 _And a red blade surged to life, putting everything red under its sage._

* * *

"What have we learn?" The menacing figure, draped in dark robes, stood still next to the now-gone blue fires that once filled the room.

"That Kenobi is far more resourceful than we had originally thought," Taller, but less dark, Dooku waited for his punishment. But a laugh, instead of a rage, came from his Master.

"No, not only that." A wicked smile crossed his face, "That Kenobi has secrets more worth dying for,"

"And that we will kill for."

* * *

 _Sobs broke free. The small tremors didn't subdue, because Obi-wan now knew where he was._

 _The Temple, smoke and blood, and fire scorch the once peaceful halls, now tainted forever. Maybe that was the plan after all. Even so, he couldn't bear to see the bodies, pointing one last condemning towards him. Even as in the floor were too young, too still bodies. Skeletons of his brothers and sisters._

 _He wondered what happened to Luke. Or Leia Organa._

 _He should get up, protect them. But his bones are paper, and whenever he opened his eyes, a skeleton of a Jedi would stare right back._

 _Pathetically, he double-over and screamed._

* * *

 _Master Made Windu, has in all areas, never been in a situation quite like this one. He would rather never do this, but the last chance to protect one of their own could not be passed._

 _So he and half of the Jedi council surrounded the Master Jedi on the cot. A steady yet subtle pressure, not to harm but to give a lending hand. Obi-wan, in his state of a subconscious, let the iron clad walls crumble under their own weight._

 _Only two could enter his mind, to drag his hide back, so Mace can promptly chew him out. That and he is a valuable member of the Jedi Order._

 _"Ready are you?" Bowing he settled into the cot next to the sleeping Jedi. "Of course Master."_

 _Master Yoda, next to the other side of the cot, only hummed._

 _His heartbeat slowed, the peace of the Force tenderly settled into his bones. His muscles finally giving away, and darkness overcame him._

 _And when he finally could see, the darkness did not fade. It's wasn't dark in nature, merely if one was closing their eyes. In this metaphorical sense, Obi-wan's mind. It is too quiet, too still._

 _Obi-wan is the steady hum of the Force, comforting to listen to, like that of Hyperspace. This isn't Obi-wan, because even he is humming in the dream realm. Darkness._

 _Obi-wan stood watching the Twin suns slowly sinking toward the desert sand hills below, painting everything in a warm gold-and-red hue._

 _It was a breathtaking sight that Obi-wan had witnessed many times before. From where he sat, he could see the history of the world woven into the walls of the canyon. He absently wondered what those walls might say a thousand years from now._

 _Taking a moment to enjoy his surroundings. There were, of course, other places he would consider more peaceful, but he couldn't deny having wanted to come here for a long time to see this one last time. Other planets he has seen, and prefer over the sand hell-hole of Tatooine. Of course, the sun hit his eyes, letting the back of his eyelids red, like the color of-_

 _Obi-wan squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to banish the last images of his brother from his mind and replace them with something else, like why he even was where he was. Or where he was even. Taking another calming breath, Obi-wan opened his eyes, absorbing the view, letting it wash over him. He knew this place wasn't real._

 _It wasn't real._

 _But then the faint breathing of Vader could be heard if you think hard enough._

 _"Kenobi?"_

 _ **KENOBI!** Maul, half dead and half living a hell, such hate in his eyes, where is Master Jinn-_

 _No concentrate._

 _The fire of the hell planet, not again, not again not again-_

 _"Wake up!" Mace, where is mace? Why- he's dead. Dead, and burned. Without the dignity of the proper-_

 _Rough hands shot from underneath brought him upwards into the light, and for one blissful silent moment, everything was quiet._

 _Until the murmuring started again._

 _Like small gossips from behind, always there no matter what you do._

 _"Kenobi, listen to me. Listen to me." A command, depending and demanding. He could do that if only go heart would stop beating into go ears-_

 _"You're okay. Listen to my voice. Concentrate."_

 _He listened, and his eyes cleared, the Force that abounded him came back full force, pulling at his feet. Obi-wan looked up to his savior._

 _Mace. No, he can't be here, where is Yoda? Oh, God Luke._

 _"No, Obi-wan, don't panic. Listen, you collapsed and was brought into the temple. Do you remember?" He did, remembering the darkness that seeped through his feet, balancing everything._

 _"Now, slowly tell me what happened. Or I swear I'll ground your ass for the next month." Its Mace, not dead and here._

 _"I- 'm alright. Something came from the Force, dark and menacingly. I-"_

 _"Negotiator, where at your words? It looks like the cat got your tongue," Maul, old, armed with his staff, stood there leaning against it. Looking for his prey with a cold fire in his red eyes._

 _Mace though, he was not seated by his appearance instead he stood tall. The blue light of the blade seeping through the dark where Maul stood in the shadows. Tall, imposing, inspiring and untouchable. Like the good Jedi of the Old. He could see why the public feared them._

 _The blue blade, for the millisecond, turned red, a flash of the past. Vader-_

 _A flash and Made a cough as the burning Temple pushes through their feet._

 _"What IN THE KAR-" The smoke brought his lungs coughing out, as Mace circled confused, his blade's light becoming dimmer._

 _"What is that?" His voice is broken and a mere whisper as the smoke cleared the way for the younglings bodies. Too many of them-_

 _A hand clasped into his shoulder and jerking around to see his Master with such sad eyes._

* * *

Obi-wan pushed through the fog crowding his mind and became aware of several things: he wasn't lying down as one would expect to be when waking up, but instead, he seemed to be sitting up—rather uncomfortably—in a medical cot. More specifically, an infirmary. With machinery and the white-blinding all around him.

Hands, rough from war, pulled his tunic to their eyes.

"What the kark was that Kenobi?"


	10. Investigation and Interrogation

Notes:Hey long time no see, how you been? I haven't update this in like a month, but hey I'm here.

See you next time I actually update.

Disclaims: I don't claim that I don't own this. Just my ideas.

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

Firing and burning

Good Lord help me

For this pain keeps buring me and I remember

I remember what others have nightmares of

* * *

"Now tell me Kenobi, what the _kark_ just happened?"

Tremors rolled over Obi-wan in waves; his breath hitched and caught in the back of his throat before ripping free in a deep, bone-rattling cough, causing him to bend forward as far as his bones would allow.

"I- I arguably don't know." The Master of the Jedi Order stood in a circle around their own, like a condemning statute judging someone.

Him, in this case.

"Kenobi, you show signs of fatigue and organ failure, I suggest putting this later. _After_ you rest," Master Che, one with the higher power when it comes to the Healers, was now taking prisoners.

The joy of life.

Mace, long ago decided he should take more vacation time. But it all made sense. The moment he spoke with Kenobi, something changed in the Jedi.

He no longer spoke with a sharp, silver tongue that would cleverly diffuse any situation at the snap of a finger. No, he was bolder in approach to things, even those of melodic things in daily life. He is different, and Mace didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

* * *

 _When times got rough, meditation should solve the problem_. Well, the youngsters in the creche would often joke about. But even now, decades later and here he was meditating to try and visualize some clearance and peace of mind.

In the Infirmary, nonetheless.

He had one goal and one goal only; Save the future. For that, he had to stop a Galactic-wide war while uncovering evidence to convince the galaxy the most influential man was a Sith. That and prevent Anakin from falling into the pit of darkness.

So yes, he had been. . . _Distracted_. Well, who could blame someone who time-traveled to prevent dozens of wars and a horrible future to happen? Obi-Wan groaned into his hands.

He is so confused.

He should be out there looking for anything, which shouldn't be so hard. Or try to enforce his bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, yet here he was.

Doing absolutely _nothing_ but feel so much chaos and turmoil it was a wonder the younglings didn't sense him.

He wandered around the temple, trying to clear some sense into his mind. He was- _is still_ a Jedi Master renowned for his wisdom and skills. Masters and padawans alike cleared his path, some giving him glances of some degrees of concern. Some probably thought of the

So like any good Jedi, he turned to meditation.

 _Master, what do I do?_ He wondered to the last time he saw him. Was it in the dream-like state, or in the world reduced pain? He needed _order_ and discipline, not this confuse haze he is tumbling into.

He has a goal in mind; Save the Jedi, save Anakin, Save the Republic.

It's like his own soul's mantra. Always repeating in a loop to be spoken at night when no one was hearing some delusional old man speak.

But he wasn't an old man anymore was he?

Obi-wan groaned into his healer-provided pillow. He is too confused about this. He has the necessary skills, he knows what is to come and what is demanded from him.

Yet. . . he could not bring himself to get up from this stupid med bed.

" _Maybe its because you need rest, old padawan."_

Obi-wan jerked his whole body to his side, not even caring for his wounds, to catch the familiar blue hue of his master. He hasn't changed from the posture to the hair.

And Obi-wan hasn't realized how much he has missed the man.

" _I'm sorry for not being here, but it takes quite a lot of effort for even being here present. That and saving my troublesome padawan from trouble, of course."_ The other Jedi didn't even sense the man!

He was suddenly struck by the lighting idea of him always being watched and judge long before he escaped under the twin suns of Tatooine.

" _Calm down, I don't judge you for anything. You spoke right from your earlier years as General. Words can do a lot you know,"_ Yes, they could.

But words weren't only going to amend for his bond between himself and Anakin. Words would not have the clones from pulling the trigger, words would not alone get him from getting up from this bed. But he isn't a fool.

He knows that he has problems.

Problems that will eventually get in the way and he had to deal with, he admits that. But he doesn't have the time to get those problems fixed, those would take a lifetime to fix. After all wondering around in the desert with nothing but your regrets and your ghosts. Running and hiding from killer and stormtroopers, and don't get him started with the war.

A war that the Galaxy didn't even remember form such propaganda pumping from the Empire. They didn't even remember the sacrifices made by the Jedi as holders of peace that lasted for thousands of years. With such thoughts his throat burned and his eyes started to swell.

 _This isn't the time nor place_ , he scolded himself.

The Healers would probably sense him and they would barge in, demanding to see what was wrong. The heavy, warm presences in the back of his mind nudge him.

 _"Padawan, its alright to mourn what you lost, not to get lost in the grieve is the difference._ " His Master is always right, of course. He rubbed his face tiredly, softly sighing in mourning. He should get some rest, but in the same time he should check out how his troops are faring. That and the problem he may or may not e avoiding.

But, in that instance the Galaxy made the choice for him.

". . . Master, are you alright?" In a blind moment of panic he almost choked on himself as he startled himself out of his brooding. His padawan is standing there, more confused and lost than he was in the moment. And there he decided that his problems were important anymore.

"Anakin, I'm sorry for not being there with you. As you can see the Healers are very vigorous about me being stuck here." Humor is always a good way to start, from what he learned in Tatooine.

"Master, I- I came to see if you're doing okay, you know after you collapsed and everything." Obi-wan could only stare at his padawan. In all these years he only ha his memory to see him. But as unbelievable as it is, his padawan is standing here and alive in the flesh. His eyes seemed more downcast than he remembers, is skin more pale and his hair more of a mess than usual.

"Master?" Oh he's staring isn't he?

"I'm sorry, it just. .. It has been a long day." Anakin frowned, and shuffled in a seat ext to him. He looked. . . tired, tired and nervous.

"Master, it has been a week since you collapsed." Now that is something he wasn't expecting. He was sure at least some hours have passed, more a=than a few tow days at most. Then the questions started to pop out, how are his troops dong? Who was leading them? No wonder Anakin looked so nervous.

'"I apologize then for putting you in that situation then. How have you been doing?" Anakin frowned again, another dark look passing through his face. Obi-wan's negotiations skills serve him as he could put back the shock. Had he said something wrong?

"Um, fine, really. Things have been going slow, but everything is going smoothly now." Anakin looked so lost and uncomfortable, now Obi-wan is the one that felt like the villain for putting him in such situation.

Oh, the irony in that.

He coughed, masking it to clear his throat. "That's. . . Good, very good. I'm sorry for not being there and putting the pressure on you. Maybe we can talk about it later?"

Another dark suspicious look croosed his eyes, so fast and real that it tore is heart. This would be murder made his heart cry and his chest heavy.

 _Please don't say things like that. God, please trust me._

 _Trust me._

But Anakin only nodded, and stood up in some professional form. And in that moment he knew he lost the battle.

"Well, I'm off to the tell the men how you woke up from your nap. Don't run away this time, okay?" And with that he was gone.

Gone and leaving him in a heavy haze of depression. It wasn't until he felt the set tears run down his cheeks that he realized just how broken he was.

* * *

Anakin set himself down in from the of the dim-lited room. In so many ways, in too many, he simply didn't want to do this. It felt _wrong_.

But yet again, if he didn't do this, he wasn't sure what he would have felt if he turned the Chancellor down. But it didn't matter, why soul it bother him? The Chacellor is coming in good faith, all he wanted was to know how Obi-wan was doing, as a friend and General of the Republic.

 _So why is it bothering him?_

But it didn't matter anymore as the blue figure of the man he came to admire came into view. " _Anakin, my boy. How are you doing?_ "

This eased his chest. _This_ is why he was doing this. The simple knowledge that he was talking to the most powerful man in the Galaxy and making a difference is simply intoxicating. It made him feel important.

"Everything is doing alright, Obi-wan has just woken up from his one week nap, and should be released soon," From what the Healers told him. Well, thinking back the Healers weren't so fond of him.

The holo of the Chancellor visibly sagged in relief, " _That is good to hear. General Kenobi is after all a great leader in this terrible war. I pray he makes a healthy recovery._ "

"That makes two of us." But the words soon died down and they had to cut off feed.

And in the end, the hollow in his chest returned leaving him alone and empty in the small dark room.


	11. Kenobi, you won't get off that easy

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of this media, just here to promote said media. Hope you enjoy, don't sue me._

* * *

 _With these hands hold the fire and look_

 _For the future was written by men in white_

 _Think of what has yet to happen_

 _Because the future is out the door_

chapter 11

* * *

Sleep is proving rather reclusive tonight.

The shadows of the room still dance circles around his iris. It wasn't quite like the hut on the desert, or chaotic on the field.

Instead, here he is on top of too comfortable sheets, idly starring to the ceiling in no particular way. Just him with his thoughts and ghosts that weren't dead just yet. Nightmares make life difficult, even more, if you are under strict rules to get enough sleep to go back into a war zone.

Yeah, Obi-wan isn't so sure about that.

But his Master was sure of something, he couldn't deny what happened if he suddenly forgot he seized in the middle of the Council room. But Obi-wan instead shifted his attention to the dark walls that boxed him in.

Obi-wan released a slow and silent breath, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind for the moment as the knock on the door alerted him to the presence of another. In the middle of the night. Yes, he thought, this isn't going to end well.

His limbs felt like they are being filled with lead, and his head was pounding out a cadence in time with his heart. He wanted nothing more than to "stay there" and just sleep the rest of this day and night through. But the presence in his door kept knocking and it grew too annoying to keep out.

And on the other side, Mace Windu stood impatiently with his arms crossed.

"Hello Kenobi, we have to talk."

Ah, kriff.

* * *

Mace hadn't spent enough time with Obi-wan for the past few months, it doesn't mean he was blind for the obvious. Most Councilmen and women wanted Obi-wan rested and new before jumping him and interrogating him.

Mace isn't like most.

First, he collapses during battle, then dies, then explodes the med-bay, then he collapses again. He half-expects for him to have a heart attack by now.

Of course, that wasn't the only thing his friend has done in the last day or so that felt a bit out of character. Leaving the medbay, not reporting to the Council, dying? That wasn't even close to normal Obi-wan Kenobi behavior.

And now, Obi-wan looks like death warmed over, looking so sickly and weak he feels an urgent punch of guilt for bothering him so late.

"You look like a nightmare," Obi-wan snorted, pulling his face into a small smile, even with that he looks like death. "Not many come to my quarters in the middle of the night, Mace. Did something happen?"

Mace shook his head, knowing to keep his tone quiet. "No, you simply died and I wanted to stop by for some tea."

Obi-wan blinked and smiled sheepishly. "I ran out of tea yesterday, I have Caf if you want instead."

Mace frowned, and Obi-wan immediately let the man through. The room itself was just like any other for the Jedi Masters, yet the faint smell of bile and stale air made him wrinkle his nose.

"So, Kenobi, how have you been?" He slowly dragged it out in question, the first of the many.

He shrugged, but Mace could still see it behind his eyelids and the frown. Such like he could see the half charcoal smoke surrounding the Jedi who clutched his chest and screamed as the bodies of the Jedi lay scattered around them.

He realizes the dry thoughts of despicable and quickly vanished them into the Force.

These are not the thoughts of a Jedi Master, much less of the Head, but these are troubling times when the Force itself is intoxicated and heavy with the cloud of darkness looking across the horizon with no end in sight.

But Kenobi already knew this.

"Tell me of what I saw when I went to recover you," The dishes clash together and that ring in his ears to the silence bombarding the room. He will not dance tonight, not when all he can see are the screaming Jedi and the younglings-

No, he will not dance around the issue.

Kenobi, his back hunched and so ready to run, this is not Kenobi. Obi-wan Kenobi, Master Jedi of the High Council, and General of thousands of soldiers of the Republic. This is someone broken like everyone else is. Maybe he held into the illusion far too long.

"What do you mean?" There is a small snap of anger, why would it? But that dissolves without much effort.

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps the bodies lying at your feet when I saw you?" Mace, once young and just a padawan, used to be a fire-spitting boy that grew an uncomfortable anger. This is no different.

Because the Force here is different. Less conflicted and more transparent.

Obi-wan flinched. He doesn't remember him having any Visions from the Force as a child. He is a Jedi, he does have restraints but that went flying out a window when he saw infants and children dead. Jedi Children.

"I- I don't remember. I'm sorry." His face twists to one of pain, and Mace needs to know. The faces- young, too young and too twisted in pain, covered in-

He needs to know. But for now, he will walk.

* * *

His back met the bed, and finally, he could breathe.

When Mace finally- finally left, he let the panic in.

'Kenobi we need to talk'

What kind of shit was that?

Panic made his heart stutter and his mind grasp blindly for anything, absolutely anything useful or relevant. His thoughts kept skipping uselessly, a broken holoplayer forcibly jumping back to-

Master Jinn is standing in front of him.

For a second his thoughts are playing another cruel game but the Force, all radiant and in its glory, whispers that this is him.

There is a confusing rush of emotions that run through him and pounds against his heart, leaving him breathless. He felt as though he had lost his Master both a decade and a century ago. There were so many things he wanted to say, to ask, to apologize for.

His Master stepped closer, laying his hand on Obi-wan's shoulder and squeezing gently, but he still didn't dare to look at him. But it seems his Master ignored it, in favor of closing his eyes and his face tilted slightly down like he was listening to something.

"Master, I . . ." He felt tremors race across his arms into his chest and sweep across his body. He wanted to say, "Sorry," but the word didn't seem quite big enough to cover everything.

Jinn's steady gaze rose to meet his padawan's; he cupped the side of Obi-wan's neck. "I know." He smiled tearfully. "It's okay.

Obi-wan felt something break deep inside. Of the Force itself reached in and pulled. He wanted so desperately to grab hold of the absolution his Master was offering him. But it wasn't okay, and he didn't know, couldn't know. His sins were so much worse.

"I know I should be stronger, and not told anyone but this. . . Master, I'm sorry." He should have been stronger. But Mace's dark eyes are there and accusing, and the weight of it all is simply impossible.

Because he fails then the Jedi will fall. The infants and the children, and the old and the young. Then the Republic will fall, the government body that stood for centuries, undone because of him and his failings.

"Padawan. Enough."

Obi-wan snaps his face toward, his Master visibly losing patience.

"This is not your fault. This is the fault of the Sith. Don't blame yourself." He's too tired. He is in a dream, asleep and yet he's tired. Bone weary, his eyes scratchy, kinda tired.

But his Master is stepping forward, and his back meet something soft and close your eye for now-


	12. Chapter 12

_Where are you now lost_ soul _?_

 _I hear battle cries and the last testament_  
 _of the fallen_

 _Oh, where are you Now, General?_

chapter 12

* * *

The crystal clear, the one thing he needs to focus on, is this small predicament he finds himself in.

How would one adopt the entire Clone army, against the Republic's and the Order's back?

This is the current question Obi-wan Kenobi is trying to ask himself, and solve, in his dimly lit quarters. Really, he should be getting some natural sunlight, because not in a couple of hours will he be traveling back into the front lines.

Thus, bringing the subject of clones into his for the mind.

They were dedicated people, strong-willed, and willing to fight for you until the end of their days. He also remembers seeing them march into the Temple, and oh god the bodies-

 _Deep breath._

But he also knows the Republic won't let their precious army go without a fight. He knows the Jedi won't risk their oath that spans for millions of years for clones. But he knows they have a duty to every sentient beings before the Republic and their blurred lines.

A headache blooms behind his eyelids. This issue could go on circles with no end in sight. So, that leaves him in a bad place.

He could do something rash and un-Jedi, for the wellbeing of trillions of people, and get fried by the Republic and Jedi, his reputation tarnished and his name being spit under people shoes.

But it isn't like he hasn't been through that before.

He felt himself, his core, stir with impatience. He should be fighting, and he will. Tomorrow a ship should pick him up and send him off to fight in another battle that will end in bloodshed for something that isn't even real.

Obi-wan tries to breathe through his nose, to think of something else, but that damn thought.

It wasn't real.

The war, the countless battle and blood, and the loss. It was for nothing. He remembers his first battle when his troops were shinies, and he remembers seeing a man's whole arms be split into two and bleed to death because the Medic was low on everything.

 _And that wasn't real._

Well, for what he has to say is, _fuck that._

They will not die, not here and certainly not for a coward who hides under the mask that he cares. No, not now and not here.

He stays there for the night, the resolution of General Kenobi has finally come back. Well, mostly. Just a bit.

* * *

Ahsoka wonders if she should do something to help. Granted, her master did say she should just stay here and not make any trouble, like if she's some delinquent, but it's so boring!

She doesn't mind the lessons, the extra work, the extra reading, but being stuck for hours eating nothing but the bland food is too much. This is torture and should abound. In fact, she should pick up her comlink and call Master Kenobi to try to see if she can sway him over.

But she also remembers her Master's face.

Harden face that was tan with the battlefield, so pale and pinched when he returned from the Temple. He reassures her that Master Kenobi is fine, that she shouldn't worry.

Uh, _yeah._ And she's a Wookie.

She seems how he whispered into the comlink and how the force musked over with an underline of anger. Her Grandmaster is not alright. She may be a padawan, but it's her job to look after the two. They forget to eat sometimes! How could people forget to eat?

So, that's how she ended convincing herself to make everyone come together and demand to see Obi-wan.

He's been "off limits" by everyone. Especially after the huge incident. She shudders when she thinks of the darkness in her mind where she was cut off everything. Like feeling your phantom limbs, but unable to sense anything.

She heard rumors in the Temple how Master Kenobi was coping. She heard that he was as pale as a ghost, and not in his usual way either. Other say that he's coming just fine. But no one in the Temple of gossips really knew how he was doing.

Ahsoka sighs have she rest her head into her palm. Really, her knees are starting to hurt, is this what it feels to be old?

Then, finally, Anakin walks in.

"Hey snips sorry I was away, did you call?" Her attitude right now, along with thoughts are so un-Jedi like that she should be as scandalous as the next person. But Master Kenobi is in trouble.

"How's Obi-Wan?" Her straightforward question is making her master's face pinched and worried again.

 _Deep breaths and count to ten and find your center._

"He's alright, the council has cleared him, but after he needs to clear his test and whatever," He looks troubled, but then again, who isn't?

This stupid war has dragged people from their soul and what the clones think and act because they were made to. This is something she hasn't really thought about, but as soon as those thoughts entered she leveled them out of her mind and conscious.

"Master, do you think they'll let us see him before he leaves?" Anakin stood frozen for a second, he knows what his padawan is trying, and for a moment he is proud by how much she has come.

"Ahsoka, no matter how much you want to see Obi-wan, you cannot stay from your duties okay? Plus, you'll see him _soon,_ don't worry snips."

And the shame both felt, they pretended they couldn't feel through the force.


	13. Shatterpoints

Chapter 13

 _Tell me force child, are you from the twin Suns_

 _Where have you gone, chubby cheek child?_

 _Golden hair, bright eyes what have you done?_

* * *

Mace is halfway through the reports when the trooper next to him shoots Depa.

She turns to him, blood dripping from her mouth in a silent scream of pain, and ask, "Are you alright Master?"

The blue light of the holo and the darkroom brought out the bag under his eyes, but that didn't stop the blood from twinkle under the light.

"Yes, this war simple takes a lot from us." He manages to keep his voice steady and strong. As a good leader, these men need, for they have already taken too much for the republic.

"Sir, " It's his commanding officer and he's bleeding from his armor, blood pouring out of the cracks, and that's too much blood.

"Report." Sharp, crisp, enough command to ignore the gore and the screaming of the force.

The battle is going good, forces haven't lost forces in the thousands and people aren't blowing shit up. That's good news. Innocents don't have to suffer, yet why is the Force screaming that it is rattling his bones?

The throbbing mundane pain makes him wonder how far all of civilization has come for them to still be no good damn caf or a pill for his pain without any bad consequences.

Or this war.

As he pulls down his hands from appearing too tired, two clones passing him started to scream about betrayals and one eats the barrel of the blaster.

He looks away, those two happy talking about destroying the clankers, as he calms himself. His gift wasn't as active before, even before the war, now the metal walls of the ship echo with mechanical breathing.

Weeks have dragged on, those turned into moths and soon, the first year had passed. He remembers with clarity when time crawled and clawed through battles, but this is different.

The background noises bleed together into a low buzz as he pulls himself into the holo player.

"Why have you called an old master? Sleep, for everyone needs."

And for a second he saw Yoda surrounded in a fog, old and weak, he saw too much, and the pressure against his chest, the Force screaming into his ears.

"Master, something is happening."

* * *

"Make sure they don't fall!"

The men won't make it, he realizes this too late and soon the command hears their final blood screams. But they aren't the only ones, as they are too busy trying to get these men to safety.

Obi-wan yells more commands to the closest ear he finds, not caring for the undignified way he's presenting himself.

He has to survive this, these men have to survive this madness because they will not die due to the bureaucracy of a corrupt Sith. Not again.

The battle he's assisting was meant to be a quick mission, read, and re-read the mission details, and stood up all night just remembering what happened and the events that led to this escalation.

And do his shock and horror, he couldn't remember.

Maybe this was a fluke, that this is what happens when you return to a time that it's not their own. The anxiety and the gut feeling that simply burns. It makes his chest and therapy contrast and he has a hard time just breathing.

Maybe, he deserves this.

As he watches his men fall under the slaughter of angry plasma, melting away to fuse their flesh and armor together. Many fall under the wave and he realizes how little men he has.

In a galaxy of trillion and yet he has hundreds.

This was meant to be doomed from the start.

"Fall back! Don't falter!" The men in the front lines don't hear his message, because it takes him too long that he has shouted at the dead bodies of the men.

He grabs the closest again, a young man, one of the new ones that had just transfer under him.

"Get me in contact with the other forces!"

When he relays his orders to the young man, man? Or a child? He mines with precision as he runs towards the lines, breaking through the heat of battle.

This is what the Jedi have become.

When the Jedi of old fought the Sith, he wonders if this how they fought, he uses himself to throw himself to the metal machines that are killing his men. A flash of bright pain, but when he sees one of the clones on the dirt, clutching his dead bother he can't help but think of his brothers and sisters that couldn't breathe, as blood surge from their mouths -

Help us, Obi-wan

Fight.

The blue light illuminates his path as the scorned metal burns, melts away. Soon, the sounds if the heated battle started to cold down, leaving behind a soft and hollow sound.

Soon, he sees what has plagued him so long.

Dead bodies around him, not like Maul, no, because this is his fault. He doesn't remember, and now this is what weights his feet into the ground.


End file.
